The Crimson Captive
by IchatrinaObsessedSleepyGirl
Summary: When Ichabod's young daughter comes into an inheritance he'd prayed she'd never discover, he's forced to seek out the only person who can help him deal with it.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, so all of you who keep up with my other stories, please don't slaughter me for posting a new one while still having two in progress. I just can't help myself. Plus, this is how I hold myself accountable... or how you all hold me accountable anyway because once I put it out there, there's no way I'm going to leave it hanging.**

 **So, with that said, here we go with this one that's been driving me crazy for months.**

* * *

Sleepy Hollow was hardly the place one might find to be warm in late October. However, as he walked across the school parking lot, the heel of his dress shoes thudding against the pavement, he found himself perplexed by the bright sun overhead. It was an astounding eighty-seven degrees, an oddity for sure this late in the year.

"I don't want to go, daddy."

Tearing his eyes from the sun, which had intrigued him since stepping foot outside his house, he dropped his gaze to his daughter, who's fingers were clutched tightly around his own. One would think he was leading her to the noose!

"Bella, you have a test today and I have a very important meeting with Mr. Billings. You remember him, don't you?"

Gold-green eyes flickered up to him as an all too familiar look consumed her face; one that told of her sorrow and desire to be pitied. If there was one thing his daughter excelled at, it was managing to appear completely innocent in the face of refusal or denial.

"I don't feel good," she muttered as she bumped into his leg to avoid a woman passing by them.

"You felt fine over breakfast," he mused as he led her up the steps. "Are you worried about your test?"

Dark hair fell into her eyes as she shook her head and focused her attention on the ground.

"My shoe's untied."

Following her gaze to the white strings dragging along the concrete behind her, he sighed and knelt to her level.

As he took the laces between his fingers, he said, "We studied your numbers all night. You shouldn't be worried."

"It's my tummy that hurts, not my brain," she countered, her brow drawn together. "You let me stay home last week."

Done with her laces, he met her eyes to find the gold-green he'd adored for five years staring back at him with desperate hope. It was nearly too much to resist.

"Last week was different," he explained as he lifted a hand to brush her hair behind her ear. "It was only a half day."

"But-"

The bell started to ring, causing Bella's face to fall even further.

"Daddy, please, don't make me go," she cried as she threw her arms around his neck. "I want to go home."

Unable to do little other than lift her up, he began carrying her toward the double doors of the school, which a lady thankfully held open for him.

"Bella, it's only for a short while," he whispered as he soothingly stoked her back. "I'll come check you out right after my meeting finishes."

And never utter anything about it to Abbie.

Apparently, in his friend's opinion, he was far too easy on Bella. Every tear stabbed him right in the heart, often helping Bella evade punishment, as he could hardly bear to scold her when she was so distraught. The only time he ever truly came down on his little girl was when Abbie was there, her expression disapproving. In truth, he knew he should be stricter with Bella. She certainly never threw tantrums with her Aunt, who she seemed to have more respect for than anyone.

However, with everything his daughter went without, he just couldn't seem to force anything else onto her small shoulders.

"Oh, Bella, what's wrong?" Betsy Ross, Bella's kindergarten teacher, approached them with a worried expression. "Are you hurt?"

He shook his head with a smile, grateful for the distraction from the tears wetting his neck. "She's just a bit out of sorts this morning. She'll be fine after I'm gone."

Bella clung all the tighter to his neck as he knelt to the ground.

"Come now, Bella," he cooed, gently tugging on her arms in the hopes that she would release him. "It's only for a short while."

Tears streaked her pale cheeks, causing his will to falter. If there was one thing he couldn't stand, it was to see her cry.

Lifting his hand to tenderly stroke her cheek, he watched her choke on her own sob.

"Bella, I have to go now."

"Daddy, please," Bella cried as he stood back up. "Don't leave me."

Gaze turning to Betsy, he silently pleaded for her help. If someone didn't do something soon, he was going to crack.

"Bella, sweetie, go on and take your seat. I'm sure Madison will be glad to see you."

Mention of Bella's best friend was enough to stop the sobs, but he could still see the fight brewing in his daughter's eyes.

"If you go on now, we'll go for ice cream when I pick you up," he offered, knowing he was wrong to resort to bribery, but desperate enough to use it. "Alright?"

To her credit, she didn't stomp as she went through the door, which was a significant improvement over the last time she'd put up a struggle with going to school.

His daughter's temperament never failed to bring unwanted thoughts about where she acquired it from to mind.

"She'll be fine," Betsy said after Bella was out of sight. "I'll take care of her."

Relieved to finally be done with that, he turned to Betsy with a grateful smile. "Thank you. I was nearly ready to take her home."

Betsy smirked and ran her hand down his arm. "So, are we still on for dinner tonight?"

Right. Dinner.

He'd completely forgotten.

"Oh, uhm," he cleared his throat and fumbled for an excuse. "I'll have to let you know."

Betsy glanced at the door to her classroom, allowing him the first chance he'd had to appreciate the way her dress hung over her hips. "Depending on if she'll stay with Jenny or not, right?"

He chuckled. "She's a fiery one."

Betsy turned back to him with a laugh. "Just wait until she's a teenager. That's a whole other ballgame."

The very idea of it brought a groan up his throat. He'd rather battle redcoats. Actually, he'd rather fight the Horseman of Death with that blasted soul sucking sword.

"I'll not survive it."

Her hands slid around his waist as she stared up at him, her eyebrows raised. "Well, perhaps, I can help you out."

The implication in her words didn't slip by him, though he pretended like it did. Bella had made sure he was in no state to think that deeply at this point.

Shaking his head, he leaned and pressed a brief kiss to her lips before backing away with a smile.

"I'll see you later."

With that, he turned on his heel and started for the door, thoughts of the coming night already on his mind.

He needed a night out. _Desperately_.

It wasn't that he didn't adore making dinner with Bella and watching Disney movies over and over, but there was a very important thing he needed that his daughter simply couldn't provide.

Physical touch of the not so innocent nature.

It had been six years since the last time he'd properly bedded a woman and the desire to rectify that fact was plaguing him more with every passing day.

After Bella had come along, he hadn't much cared for companionship as he'd had all he needed in his little girl. Women and the urges that came while in their company had faded considerably.

Despite that, however, Abbie had told him countless times that he needed to put himself out there, if not for himself, then for Bella at least. She needed a mother, someone to provide stability and the sort of things every young girl needed.

His counter, of course, had been that she and Jenny could provide everything Bella would ever need and he need not resort to bringing a stranger into his angel's life.

However, Abbie, while admitting she loved Bella more than life, had argued that she was married to the FBI and Jenny constantly had something going on. She'd pressed that Bella needed more than a day here and there with her Aunts. She needed a mother.

So, then, Betsy had entered the picture.

To say he'd been a wreck on Bella's first day of preschool would be the mother of all understatements. She'd cried, he'd cried, and, by the end of it, her teacher had been near to tears with begging him to either leave Bella or take her back home.

His and Bella's hero had been Betsy, who had heard the commotion and left her own classroom to help the struggling single father who was weeping in the center of the school hallway while clutching his screaming little girl to his chest.

In no time at all, she'd coaxed Bella right out of his arms and even escorted her to her seat to show her there was absolutely nothing to be afraid of.

After that day, Betsy had become a staple of sorts. She helped with Bella's school and anything that came with it. She'd even gone so far as to bring Bella home on the few occasions when he'd been running late from work.

All in all, she'd been nothing short of a godsend.

Now, though, after a year of heavy flirting and suggestive touching, they were finally dating.

Well... secretly dating that is; at least, when it came to Bella knowing about it.

From the beginning, he'd been adamant about Bella remaining oblivious for her own emotional safety. The last thing he wanted was to get his daughter's hopes up and then disappoint her if things didn't work out.

Betsy had been understanding; even going so far as to agree with him that it was best for Bella to learn about them after they'd figured things out for themselves.

However, that had been four months ago and he sensed the issue would be rearing its head sooner rather than later.

It didn't help that the physical aspect of their relationship was progressing faster than he would have imagined and, while they hadn't went so far as to have sex yet, most everything leading up to it had been done; repeatedly and enthusiastically.

So, it wasn't presumptuous to imagine that the time for deciding just how far his relationship with Betsy was going to progress was definitely coming due and, by the time he was pushing the door to the offices at the museum open, he'd worked himself up into a ball of nerves.

"Oh, Mr. Crane, Agent Mills called and said she needs to speak with you asap." Gloria, his secretary stood from her desk and handed him a piece of paper. "And Mr. Billings is waiting in his office."

With a look down the hall to his boss's office, he frowned. "Our meeting isn't for another half an hour."

Gloria shrugged, the information clearly not news to her. "He didn't seem to be in the best of moods today, sir. I believe his wife asked for more money in their divorce and it had him in a right foul way."

"Perfect," he muttered as he started for his own office door. "I'll need some coffee, Gloria, and-"

"Right here, sir," she called as she lifted a mug from her desk.

When he raised an eyebrow at the already prepared coffee, she grinned and said, "I saw you parking."

Shaking his head, he met his secretary's dark eyes. "Thank you. I'm not sure what I'd do without you."

Gloria gave a motherly shake of her head; her graying hair never budging from her tight bun. "You'd survive just fine, sir."

Not agreeing in the least, he accepted the mug and turned to his office.

* * *

Mr. Billing's was a short, very moody and very wealthy, man. Alone, he owned half of Sleepy Hollow, including the museum. His family name had been in Sleepy Hollow since its founding and his grandfather had even built the school his daughter now attended. So, it was easy to understand that when Mr. Billing's wanted something, he tended to get it.

"I'm telling you, Crane," the man said as he paced in front of his large desk. "We need something new, something that will draw the public through our doors."

Shifting in his seat, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket for the third time, something he was doing his best to ignore.

"I understand that, Mr. Billings, and I'm mulling some ideas over, but-"

The office door opened, drawing both their gazes; one surprised and one agitated.

"Damn it, Gloria, how many times have I told you not to interrupt my meetings?"

Gloria barely acknowledged the man as her eyes sought him out with an urgency about her.

"Miss Jennifer just called. Apparently, something's happened with Bella at school and she's gone to pick her up."

On his feet before the last words left her mouth, he pulled his phone from his pocket to find two missed calls from the school and one from Jenny.

When he found no messages explaining what had happened, he started running toward the door.

"Did she say what happened?"

"No, sir," Gloria called as she followed him down the hallway. "Just that Bella had had an accident and needed you."

Fear clutched him as he grabbed his car keys from his desk and turned to leave his office.

"Please, apologize to Mr. Billings for me," he called over his shoulder as he opened the door and set off at a run.

* * *

He'd been halfway to the school when he'd finally gotten an answer from Jenny to say that she'd taken Bella back to his house.

Now, he was dashing up his porch steps and throwing the door open.

"Bella!?"

However, it wasn't Bella, but Jenny who appeared around the living room corner, her hands held up for him to slow down.

"Hey, she's changing her clothes."

"Changing her clothes?" he asked as he hurriedly walked across the room. "What happened that she'd need to do that?"

Before he could make his way down the hall, Jenny caught his arm and brought him to a stop.

"Crane, it's happened."

Confusion swept through him as he turned to meet Jenny's worry filled eyes. "What do you mean? What's happened?"

"She was sitting at her desk, taking her math test. She said she couldn't remember an answer and got really upset. The next thing she knew, her desk was on fire."

"Wha-" He backed away from Jenny and sagged against the wall, his mind a tumult of disbelief. "Her magic."

As he attempted to absorb what was happening, Jenny crossed her arms, a seriousness he was unaccustomed to coming over her.

"We knew this was going to happen."

Wearily bringing a hand to his head, he whispered, "I'd hoped it wouldn't."

"Crane," Jenny said softly. "Bella's a good girl. She's going to be alright."

Shaking his head, he looked up at his friend helplessly. "What if she's not? She's already so much like her. I _can't_ do this again."

With a sigh, Jenny shrugged her shoulders. "Look, I called Abbie. She's on her way over. We'll sort this out when she gets here, but, right now, there's a very scared little girl in there wanting her dad."

Nodding in a way that he felt was rather dumbly, he pushed himself away from the wall and walked the few feet to Bella's door.

As he stared at the glow in the dark stars circling her stenciled name, he found himself afraid. Not of his daughter, but of the future that was now laid before her. This wasn't a fate he'd wanted for her. It was one he'd done his best to pretend didn't exist; pretend _wouldn't_ exist.

Carefully pushing the door open, he peeked his head inside to see her lying on her bed, clutching her favorite stuffed puppy, Trigger. The puppy had been a gift from Abbie on Bella's first birthday and not a night had gone by since that she didn't have that animal in her arms as she slept. No matter how angry she might get over Abbie always making her obey, Bella still adored her Aunt.

The closer he moved toward her, the more obvious the look of abject fear on her face became. It was enough to move his feet at a quicker pace across the carpeted floor.

"Bella?"

Her body shot up at his voice, her gold-green eyes searching him out.

"Daddy," she whispered as she reached for him, her short arms outstretched wide.

Gently sitting beside her on the bed, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his lap while being careful not to knock Trigger off the bed.

"It's alright, sweetheart," he softly whispered as he rocked her. "I've got you."

Her small body trembled as she clutched him. "I did something bad."

"No, no," he said as he tugged her back to catch her eyes. "That's not what happened."

Tears overtook her puffy cheeks as she shook her head. "I felt it, daddy. I did that."

Words escaped him as he stared helplessly at his daughter. How could he possibly explain this to her? He couldn't just tell her she was a witch. That was too much for a grown man to handle, much less a distraught five year old girl who was afraid of spiders and clowns.

"Am I a freak, daddy?"

Disheartened she'd ever come to that conclusion about herself, he ran his fingers through her long hair.

"Of course not, you're just special." He sighed, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. "Bella, you have a gift that's very rare."

Her face contorted into one of protest. "Take it away, daddy."

How he wished he could do just that.

"I-I can't, sweetheart." He pulled her close to his chest again. "But I promise it'll be alright."

As he rocked his trembling little girl, he caught sight of the picture on her bedside table and felt his own breathing shallow.

This was _her_ fault.

* * *

"I've researched this until I'm blue in the face," Abbie said as she paced the length of his kitchen counter, her hair up in a half hazard pony tail and her hands gesturing every which way. "Spells, potions. There's all kinds of stuff out there to help us deal with this. We'll just bind her magic until she's older."

"Bind her magic?" Jenny asked as she leaned back on her stool. "I really don't think that's a good idea, Abs."

"Well, what do you suggest, Jenny?" Abbie placed both hands on the counter to face her sister, her agitation clear. "None of us are witches. We can't teach her how to control this. I think we all know what happened to Grace."

The mention of Abbie's ancestor, a casualty of his young son's magic, caused him to flinch.

"I say we go right to the source."

Lifting his head from his hands, he turned to look at Jenny. "What?"

Jenny shrugged as her gaze fixed on the counter.

"Look, I know the two of you don't want to face this fact, but we do have a witch who can help us." Jenny caught his eyes. "A _very_ personally invested witch."

His chair toppled with the force he used to stand. "Absolutely not!"

"Crane-"

"Have you lost your senses?"

Jenny rolled her eyes. "I think I would be the best judge on if this was a good idea or not. I _am_ the only one of the three of us in direct contact with her."

With crossed arms, Abbie firmly shook her head. "Jenny, she tried to kill us."

"And she's paid for that," Jenny argued, her voice raising. "Look, I'm not her biggest fan or anything. I never even really liked her in the first place, but she lost everything. _Anyone_ would go crazy in those circumstances."

"I can't believe you're even suggesting this," Abbie said as she leaned against the counter. "This had got to be the craziest idea you've ever had... and that's saying something."

As the two of them fell into argument, he walked down the hall and into Bella's room.

She was curled under her covers, Trigger clutched in her arms again.

Carefully pulling her blanket over her shoulders, he ran his fingers through her hair and observed the light flutter of her eyelids. She was such a beautiful creature, one he'd go to any lengths to protect.

"I'm going to make sure you're safe, Bella," he whispered, tears clouding his vision. "I promise you that."

The picture on her bedside table caught his attention again, prompting him to reach for it.

Bella had begged for a picture of her mother.

As opposed to the idea as he'd been, he'd been unable to refuse such an innocent request. What child didn't deserve to know, at the very least, what her mother looked like? It was the kindest thing he could do for her given the circumstances.

The picture was a rare shot of the two of them; her head pressed against his shoulder as they read together on a park bench. One of Abbie's coworkers from the police station had taken it during one of their annual picnics, unbeknownst to both of them.

How had everything gone so horrible wrong?

Sighing, he set the picture down and pushed himself up before heading back into the kitchen.

"I need to go for a walk," he said as he made his way toward the door. "Call me if Bella wakes up."

"Crane, you can't just leave," Abbie protested as she came around the counter. "We have to figure out what to do about this."

Tiredly pulling the door open, he glanced at his old friend. "I need to think. Please, Abbie."

The hard lines in her forehead softened as she waved her hand and turned back to her sister. "Yeah, we'll call you."

* * *

For five long years, he'd avoided these tunnels.

Since the night of Bella's birth, he'd not been back down here, clambering in the darkness, searching for hope; for anything to make this wretched world bearable.

Quietly sliding the steel door open, he ignored the hammering of his heart as he stepped into the outer room of the chamber that had once held the Horseman of Death, himself, captive.

That had been so very long ago, when the war had been raging at its hardest and everything had seemed so out of control.

If only he'd known, then, the heartache that would soon face him.

Candle light flickered through the window, illuminating the inner room and casting shadows along the stone walls. Books stacked floor to ceiling drew his attention, bringing to memory all the times he'd spent reading them while rocking Bella to sleep. Those had been such precious moments to him. His love of learning and his angel all packaged into one sitting.

Over time, he'd sent them all down here, one by one, care of Jenny, to be read by another, one he did his best not to think of in any place other than his dreams.

Leaning against the window, he searched the room, his eyes first finding the thick chain stretched along the concrete floor.

His stomach turned at the sight of it, at the knowledge that at its end was one he had once loved more than life itself.

Eyes tracing the chain, he followed it to the corner of the room, past a four poster bed, another item he'd supplied early on, to a desk.

Breathing faltering, he slumped forward and gripped the widow panel.

There she was. Red hair tumbling down her back in thick waves. A modern dress tucked neatly around her as she sat in the desk's chair with her back to him.

 _Five years._

Shoving himself away from the window, he stumbled to the doorway and pushed the wooden door open.

Vanilla hit his nose as he stepped into the room, his eyes focused on her back.

She didn't acknowledge him.

Of course, why should she? She likely thought he was Jenny, her only visitor and caretaker.

In truth, Jenny had been the only person he could trust with this task as Abbie would have killed her, or vice versa, and he hadn't had the courage until now.

Did he have the courage? He still wasn't sure as every footstep was a challenge.

As he circled the table, he did his best to calm his racing heart.

What would he say? What would _she_ say? Would she rise to her feet and try to strangle him as she did the night Bella was born? Would she curse him? Wish him dead as she had so many times before?

When he was finally standing a few feet in front of the desk, he noticed she never once looked up, never once made movement to signal she even knew someone was present.

She was writing in a journal, another thing he'd purchased and had sent to her; one a month, to jot her thoughts into for their daughter.

It was something he'd thought of during one of Bella's late night feedings. She'd been screaming at the top of her lungs when he'd picked her up, angry at the world for being put down and seemingly left to starve.

However, before he'd been able to put the bottle to her mouth, she'd calmed nearly immediately, her gold-green eyes staring up at him in wonder.

It had been a moment like no other.

There he was, with the tiniest, most precious creature in the world staring up at him with complete trust, and all he'd wanted to do was share that moment with her mother.

So, for Bella's sake, he'd had journals sent down here so she'd at least have something of her mother preserved for her to relate to one day. It was the least he could do.

Unable to stand another moment of this torture, he cleared his throat.

It was like time slowed down just for this moment.

Ever so slowly, her head lifted and, then, those same gold-green eyes he found so hard to resist in his daughter met his gaze.

"Hello, Katrina."

* * *

 **Phew, well, there's the start. More to be revealed soon. Please, let me know what you think. Thanks!**

 **By the way, the rating for this might change. I'm not sure yet.**

 **Next up: Ichabod and Katrina talk and we discover what happened the night Bella was born.**


	2. Chapter 2

The tick of the clock at the edge of her desk, perhaps at times soft if not unceasing, became akin to a painful and sharp ring in his ears, one that had the ability to dig deep into his soul and seek out the only resilience he had left.

From the second their eyes had met, a clash of gold green against stormy blue, he'd determined in his mind to stand strong in his convictions and treat her as he would any other prisoner. She wasn't his wife, the woman to whom he'd once pledged his life and protection, but a liar and attempted murderer; one undeserving of his pity.

To his own lack of foresight, he should have known she'd be his better at this game of wills as the longer she went without returning his greeting, the unwavering, steady gaze she affixed him under had his resolve slipping little by little.

It completely befuddled him how easily she adorned her mask, the one that allowed no emotion to show through, no familiarity or kinship. How she could be so calm under his abrupt arrival was a testament to her skill at manipulation; to her ability to cast emotion aside in favor of resolute control.

The urge to allow his gaze to trace her form after all this time was stronger than he would have anticipated, _if_ he'd had the foresight to anticipate it at all. She looked nothing like the empty shell he'd half expected her to be. Instead, she seemed very much herself if not indifferent to him altogether, seemingly completely unmoved by his sudden presence in her quarters.

Her long, fiery hair was pulled over one shoulder, the lush locks spilling down her chest and hanging just below her breasts, leaving him to physically force his eyes to remain on hers.

Such beauty concealing such ill intention.

Something had to be said, or he might just explode. It wasn't as if they were lacking topics. Five years was a very long time and a great deal had occurred with no care to the conflict still present between them; the still brewing tension that he feared would be his downfall. It was easy to think he might have plenty he could say; about Bella; how difficult it was to raise a child, much less a daughter, alone; how lonely he became in the dark of night, his thoughts consumed with all they could have been if only she'd been more honest, more willing to relinquish a few of her ideas in light of his.

The temptation to flee tickled his nerves as they taunted him with their twisting and turning. It was a temptation which would be easy enough to give into as she stared at him with what he was sure was internal judgment and condemnation.

Dropping his eyes to the polished desk, he attempted to work up some sort of courage to find a starting place. It was then that he noticed the leather journal laid open and the familiar flowery script that was her handwriting suddenly became a welcome distraction.

"You're writing in them?"

Out of his peripheral vision, he noticed her shift ever so slightly, likely to look down at the very journal to which he was referring.

"Yes, thank you."

Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, and it was clear in her delivery that she was unaccustomed to speaking.

The thought unexpectedly pained his heart.

For her, a once outspoken, beautifully intelligent woman to be silenced, reduced to chains and a dimly lit dungeon, was heartbreaking. She'd taken so much joy out of life only to now be locked away like an animal with little lack of warmth or comfort surrounding her.

However, those regrets only registered long enough for him to comprehend and react to her gratitude.

"You-You're thanking me?"

For being captive and isolated in a dark, damp dungeon, she looked remarkably healthy, but it was clear in her gold-green eyes just how starved she was; not for food or proper living conditions, but human contact.

"For the journals, yes." She nodded to the far wall where the stacks of books rested. "And all the other comforts you've provided that haven't been to solely keep me alive."

Never taking his eyes from her, he observed the way she sat straight back in the chair, her movements as graceful and delicate as they'd always been.

"What do you write in them?"

A barely perceptible shift along her brow was the only indication given that she'd heard him as her eyes danced along the wall behind him, seemingly lost in thought and leaving him to wonder if her sanity was still intact. All the silence and lack of socialization that came with her imprisonment couldn't be good for the mind and soul.

Then again, he hadn't been sure she was entirely sane five years ago, much less now, after having been once again locked away in isolation. No one, witch or not, could escape some sort of toll being taken on the mind after so much torment.

"Anything, everything." She shrugged her shoulders as if the question was too broad. "You said to tell her about myself. So, I write every memory I can recall; every thought, every feeling; insignificant or not."

As she continued to speak, a pressure began to form in his throat; needlelike and painful. Was this his reality? Was this what his family had been reduced to? His daughter tormented with gifts she couldn't control and his wife... Was Katrina even his wife any longer? He couldn't even be sure she was a whole person at present much less comprehend if she was still his wife in body.

The need to do something other than stand there all stiff and tense forced him to take a step forward and lift the journal from the desk while being wary of her hands which were rested in her lap.

Once he had taken a safe step back, he began flipping through the pages, not truly having a purpose, or direction. The neat flow of her handwriting was a welcome relief to the pressing tension in his shoulders. How many nights had he lain awake, cold and stiff within his tent, rereading the long letters she'd sent him during his time away from her? He could still picture in perfect detail all the promises of her warmth and love that had awaited him upon his returning to her. What he wouldn't give to have her write to him in such a fashion once more.

As he paused over a particular passage which spoke of Katrina's own mother, a kind and caring woman who'd seen and experienced far too much at an early age, he was reminded of just how early his wife had learned of what heartache was through the untimely death of her mother at the young age of seven. Katrina spoke of her as though she were telling the story to Bella herself. She made it lively; intriguing. He felt as though he were there, standing before the long lain to rest van Tassel matriarch, witnessing all the wonder she had brought into the world through the eyes of her daughter.

"You look different," she whispered, her voice now a little stronger, a little warmer, prompting his gaze to return to hers.

Her eyes, ever piercing, were tracing his form, obviously taking in his state of dress, which was admittedly a great deal different than the last time she'd seen him. His white dress shirt, freshly pressed, was tucked inside his black slacks and accompanied by a pair of shiny boots. All in all, his fashion as of now was a far cry from the colonial garb he'd once refused to cast away as was the much shorter hair he now chose to keep.

"It was time to change."

With that rather evasive answer, he returned to the journal, finishing off the passage and moving to another. However, before he'd read halfway down the next page, the words that caught his attention brought a heat to his collar, leaving him to adjust his stance in order to gain his bearings.

When had it become so hot in the previously cool room?

Carefully lifting his eyes, he found her watching him with a steady gaze, unmoving, but completely alert.

"You intend to give all of your journals to her?"

A barely perceptible frown touched her brow as she answered, "Yes, why?"

Unsurprised by her response, but wishing it had been different all the same, he cleared his throat and read aloud, "I'll never forget the first time he slipped his hand between my thighs-"

The sound of her laughter immediately halted his words and snapped his gaze up to find her head thrown slightly back as she glowed with amusement.

Hardly knowing what to make about any of this, he closed the journal and waited for her to collect herself while considering this entire situation highly irregular, almost dreamlike. For the love of all that was good in the world, the last time he'd seen her, she'd been attempting to kill him.

 _The piercing screams echoed throughout the chamber, filling every inch of the space with untold pain as they bounded off the concrete walls and made their way into what he thought was his very soul._

 _As he paced the outer room, he ran a frantic hand through his mussed hair and prayed it would soon come to an end as it was becoming too much for him to bear._

 _For near to six months, he'd nervously and quite worriedly anticipated this moment; the birth of his child; the unexpected creature that was soon to make an arrival._

 _It would be his second, yet first, and he found himself riddled with confliction over meeting him or her._

 _Not that it mattered, but he found himself desperately wishing for a daughter. Too much had happened, too much pain and anguish, for him to contemplate the idea of a second son._

 _Another scream ripped through the air, forcing him to sag against the wall and slide to the cold, stone floor; the weight of the past year pressing down on him_

 _There'd been a time that he'd dreamed of this; dreamed of what it would be like to witness the birth of his and Katrina's child. He'd longed for the day; prayed for it even. Since the moment she'd caused him to realize what love truly was, he'd wanted this with her; he'd wanted everything with her._

 _However, a_ _fter everything that had occurred over the past year, he'd lost all hope of this ever happening. Most especially considering the fact that the only woman he'd ever really loved was now a prisoner in the same Masonic cell that had once held his former best friend._

 _That fateful day, when Henry had died and Katrina had gone back in time in an attempt to kill him, had been a drastic changing point in everyone's lives. For a split moment, his world had crashed and burned, the reality of the two most important lives in his world being ripped from him leaving him broken and tortured._

 _When Katrina and Abbie had reappeared before his eyes mere moments after vanishing, his worst nightmare had become a reality as his wife, the woman who'd one said that every life was precious, had attempted to murder his best friend._

 _A struggle between he and Katrina had ensued and, somehow, despite her overwhelming power, he'd managed to gain the upper hand and knock her unconscious._

 _The moments that followed immediately after became a debate over what to do with her, resulting in an intense argument between he and Abbie; one that had found them both screaming as they stood over Katrina's unconscious form, gesturing wildly at her with each of them attempting to take charge of what was to be her life or death._

 _Abbie, understandably, had wanted to put an end to it all. She'd argued that if it were anyone other than Katrina, he would have agreed; would have put any other dark creature out of its misery and ensured the safety of the town._

 _Unable to refute her, he'd fallen to his knees and begged for time to sort things out; to think it over and consider all his options._

 _Their solution had come with Jenny's arrival._ _The younger Mills sister had been quick to think of the Masonic cell as she'd only just been there with Captain Irving._

 _For weeks after, talk of what to do carried on, arguments broke out between all three of them, and, then, just when he thought he would go as insane as Katrina, the news came to him via Jenny._

 _Katrina was pregnant._

 _So shocked by the unanticipated news, he'd stormed to the cell in a ball of fury, intent upon ridiculing her for her further lies; for her further manipulation of him. He wasn't going to have any more of it._

 _However, when he'd reached her, he'd found her prepared for him; her shirt bunched under her breasts and her slightly bulging belly on full display._

 _There had been no denying it at that point. She truly had been pregnant._

 _As the realization sank in, he'd collapsed to his knees; completely weakened by the knowledge that everything they'd ever wanted was within their grasp at the worst possible time._ _It was there that he'd lost the last of his ability to think rationally and, as he'd hunched over on the stone floor, her tender and caring hands had gently cupped his face while she'd whispered in his ear that if he would only release her, they could be one again. They could have their baby and everything else would work itself out._

 _She'd been so loving, so like his Katrina, and he'd been so distraught over the situation that just as he'd moved to unlock her chains, Abbie had stormed in and forcibly stopped him from continuing in his actions._

 _Katrina's reaction had been violent._

 _Her incensed screams had bounced off every wall as she'd lunged for Abbie, the intent to murder clear in her eyes._

 _That had been the last time he'd been allowed in the tunnels until now. Both Abbie and Jenny had said Katrina's hold over him was too strong and he was too emotionally compromised to deal with her any further._ _At the end of his will to fight, he'd agreed and allowed the sisters control of the situation._

 _However, as piercing cries replaced Katrina's screams altogether, he snapped his gaze to the window and reclaimed his footing, the sound drawing him forward like a beacon in the darkest night._

 _Long, brisk steps had him wrenching the door open as he all but staggered into the inner room._

 _The stench of blood and other smells he wanted no knowledge of met his nose, but that was hardly enough to stop his stride as he approached the center of the room where Katrina laid amidst blood covered sheets that Jenny was pulling away, her form looking weak and drained._

 _However, Katrina wasn't who held his fixed upon gaze._

 _"Abbie?"_

 _His friend turned, her eyes, exhausted, yet bright and youthful, catching his. "It's a girl."_

 _Overcome with so many feelings he couldn't give name, he slowed his steps until he was still as stone; half a dozen steps remaining between him and his friend, who held a white blanket in her arms._

 _The soft cries of his daughter assaulted him as Abbie's face broke out in a grin while she moved toward him._

 _"Do you want to hold her, daddy?"_

 _His lips parted, but he wasn't aware if he actually spoke as he was too focused on the small fingers visible just outside the blanket. Could a creature so small actually exist and belong to him?_

 _"Come on," Abbie encouraged, her voice soothing. "You can do this. Just hold out your arms."_

 _Hesitant, he did as instructed and watched as Abbie carefully slid the blanket into his arms; the weight easily fitting against him._

 _An angel._

 _That was the only description he had for the small creature in his arms._

 _Soft, dark hair thinly covered her head while tiny, wrinkled and pink fingers stretched, searching for something on which to grasp. She was a lively little thing as she wriggled in his arms and while her eyes were tightly shut, he imagined they were just as beautiful as the rest of her._

 _"Watch," Abbie whispered as she touched her pinky to the baby's palm._

 _His daughter immediately clamped onto the digit as her small head rolled back and forth, her fury over having been removed from her warm home to meet the cold, harsh of the living world evident._

 _A laugh bubbled in his throat, or, at least, he assumed it was a laugh. It could very well have been a sob._

 _"She's beautiful." His vision began to cloud. "I-I can't believe she's mine."_

 _"Ichabod?"_

 _Gaze tearing from his newborn, he found Katrina staring at him, her brow drenched in sweat and her every feature etched with exhaustion. The sight of her sent a shock of longing to be with her through his heart._

 _"Ichabod, please," she whispered, a trembling hand outreached. "Let me hold her."_

 _The first step was taken before he thought better of himself and stopped, a terrible foreboding in his chest._

 _If he put their baby in her arms, if he let Katrina smile and dote over her with him at her side, he'd never leave. He'd let her go and, then... What if she disappeared with his baby? What if he lost his daughter forever due to his love for his wife blinding him once again?_

 _No._

 _He couldn't allow that to happen. He would_ never _allow that to happen._

 _"Ichabod," Katrina pressed, her voice more desperate as she pulled at the sheets in an attempt to sit up. "Ichabod, please. I'll do anything."_

 _Unable to stand looking at her directly, he closed his eyes and turned away from her._

 _"Please, take her."_

 _As Abbie carefully accepted his daughter, he asked her to leave; to take the child somewhere safe and far from this place._

 _When she was out the door with the now screaming baby, he finally registered Katrina's sobs; their weight and anguish pressing heavily into his heart as it ripped in two._

 _"I can't lose another baby," she cried, the sound of the bed springs squeaking beneath her. "Don't do this to me. You wouldn't be this cruel to me."_

 _Barely able to keep his feet under him, he helplessly caught Jenny's troubled gaze._

 _"What now, Crane?" She gestured to Katrina, who was in the midst of a writhing fit. "You've been avoiding answering the question of what we do with her now for months."_

 _"I-" Tears cascaded down his cheeks as his body weakened by the second. "I don't know."_

 _Jenny ran a hand down her face and began moving toward the door. "I need to go talk to Abbie."_

 _As Jenny exited the room, he heard the bed give an unforgiving lurch, prompting him to spin on his heel to see Katrina attempting to sit up only to fall back in a weak heap, her head limply rolling over the pillow._

 _It was enough to have him rushing to her side in a panic._

 _"Katrina." He dug his knee into the bed as he leaned over her, worriedly running his hands over her sweaty face. "My love, wake up."_

 _Hardly having a moment to register her eyes snapping open, he felt the cold iron clamp around his neck and cinch tight._

 _"I am not your love," she growled as she jerked him against her and rolled to straddle him, her eyes alight with fire. "You just killed whatever was left of that woman."_

 _Lungs burning, he became desperate to get the chains off, prompting him to claw at his neck, struggling for air as his vision began to darken._

 _"You would take another child from me!?" she screamed, spittle splattering across his cheek. "After all I've done for you!?"_

 _"Kat-"_

 _"I'm going to leave blood in my wake," she whispered as she leaned down to his ear, her hot breath spiking fear in his core. "Everyone of you will pay for taking my children from me."_

 _Darkness clouded his vision and then everything went slack._

"Ichabod, why are you here?"

Jolted from his thoughts, he ran a hand along his neck, almost swearing he could still feel the grip of the chains.

After that night, he'd awoken on the floor of the outer chamber to a sore throat and the sound of Jenny screaming for him to wake up.

The memory prompted him to take another step back.

"Curiosity," he answered in a clipped tone before turning to the nearest wall and finding another place for his gaze.

"Forgive me if I find that rather odd as you've not been curious about me for quite some time."

He ran his fingers along the smooth edge of her dresser, taking in the few trinkets she had laying upon it. Books. A hairbrush. Some lotions. A cd player with various cd's stacked neatly behind it. All things he'd chosen; all things he'd purchased with her in mind.

"Have you read this?" he asked, lifting the familiar copy of _Pride & Prejudice_. "I couldn't put it down and ended up reading it in one night."

"I've read everything you've sent," she said, her voice soft, almost alluring.

He wondered if she was purposefully sounding that way, or if he was simply desperate to recognize something of the woman with which he'd once spent hours discussing everything from politics to housekeeping.

"I couldn't help but think of you while I read of Elizabeth Bennet." He set the book down and clasped his hands behind his back as he continued around the room. "Stubborn, bold, quick witted, and outspoken with everyone no matter their class or rank."

Her bed was perfectly made, something he wouldn't have expected given she had absolutely no reason to do so.

Then again, what else did she really have to do?

With a sigh, he avoided the far corner of the room which looked like her cleansing area and cut through the center. As he did so, he felt her gaze bearing into him, tracking his every move.

"Is your curiosity fulfilled, or would you like to check under the bed as well?"

Her flippant tone nearly brought a smile to his face... Nearly.

Returning to his former position in front of her, he said, "Bella."

Katrina's eyes fluttered as her gaze lowered to the desk.

Following it, he found a picture of Bella on a tire swing, a toothless grin plastered on her face.

"As you're not panicked or in tears, I imagine she's not hurt." Katrina's eyes returned to his, a knowing glint in them. "But you wouldn't have come down here just to speak of her. So, that must mean you need me for something you can't find help for elsewhere."

Irritated she was still playing games after all this time, he straightened his posture and replied, "She was at school this morning and... there was an accident."

The way her eyes narrowed gave way to her deepening thoughts as she tilted her head to the side. "What sort of accident?"

"There was a fire," he said, all his fight gone as the memory of his daughter's terrified face flitted over his vision. "When I got to her, she-"

Swiftly turning from Katrina, he paced a few feet away as tears began to well behind his eyes. He couldn't do this now. To show her weakness was to let her into his thoughts and that was the last thing he wanted. There was nothing Katrina was more adept at manipulating than his pain.

"Is she alright?"

"She wept until exhaustion overtook her." He composed himself and faced her, leaving himself exposed to her probing gaze. "Katrina, _please_ , there must be something you can tell me; _anything_."

Gold-green had him fixed in place.

Surely, she wouldn't refuse him. Regardless of what she'd done in the past, he knew the one thing Katrina still cared about was their child. It was the one thing he'd never doubt about her.

"If you're waiting for me to beg-"

"I know what you look like when you're begging, Ichabod," she interrupted, her voice even. "And while you on your knees begging for my attention and touch has its own time and place, that's the furthest thing from what I want."

Without another word, she bent over the desk and began writing something on a piece of notebook paper, leaving him standing mentally baffled by her response. She, then, ripped it out and handed it to him.

"It's a remedy my mother used to prepare to soothe my nerves." She gestured at the paper, her chains scratching the desk as she did so. "I was prone to stomach aches and it would leave me feeling so drained that I was barely able to keep my feet under me much less keep control of my magic."

As he looked over the ingredients listed, he felt his vision cloud again.

"Bella told me her stomach was bothering her this morning." He lifted a hand to hold over his burning eyes. "I thought she was attempting to weasel out of school. So, I made her stay."

"The remedy will help," she whispered, her voice softer than he would have imagined she'd permit with him.

Wiping a hand down his face, he gathered himself and folded the piece of paper before sliding it into his pocket.

"Thank you."

Katrina flinched. "I'm not doing it for you."

Eyes fixed on her suddenly blank ones, he held his ground and explained, "It doesn't matter. I appreciate anything you do for my daughter."

"Your daughter," she whispered as a pink tinge spread across her cheeks. "I give birth to her and you call her _your_ daughter."

"It was only a phrase, Katrina," he replied, already regretting himself. "It's simply what I'm accustomed to saying. I meant nothing by it."

While she still appeared ruffled, her countenance softened as she ran a hand down her arm as if to ward off a chill.

"She got an A on her spelling test yesterday," he said, hoping the small offering would be enough to sway the tension.

It seemed to be effective as Katrina's eyes ventured back to his accompanied by a small smile on her lips. "She's intelligent."

"A trait she likely doubly inherited." He felt a grin creep over him as thoughts of his daughter swirled in his mind. "As well as her stubborn, ill tempered nature when things aren't going her way."

A chuckle slipped between her lips, leaving him feeling soothed by the light sound. There was a time he'd have made a complete fool of himself for such a sound to be sent his way.

"She's so like you, Katrina," he whispered while sadly observing her. "Sometimes, I feel as though I'm living with you reincarnated."

Laughter gone as though a light had switched off, he watched as she expertly slipped the mask she never seemed to be without back over her face.

"Is there anything else I can do for her?"

It was such a simple question.

What can a mother do for her daughter? The answer was so many things, yet he wasn't allowing any of it.

"How long do you really think you can keep Bella and I apart, Ichabod?" she asked, her voice sorrowful, yet taunting. "You may have Abigail and Jennifer attempting to fill my role in her life as a mother, but you can never fill the place I stand in as a witch. Bella already needs me and you know as well as I that the day is fast approaching when she'll learn the truth and she'll no more forgive you than you've forgiven me."

A tired expression eased onto her face.

"How can you justify doing the exact same thing I did? You're keeping secrets from our child to protect her; to make sure she's safe." She stared searchingly into his eyes. "Is that not what I did for you before I learned better?"

Hot pressure built in his chest.

"Your lies were _selfish_ ," he bit, his fists clenching as he gripped the edge of the desk. "Everything you did was for yourself or to further your own agenda."

"Is that so?" she asked, her eyebrows raised. "You're so clouded by your own wish to know everything that you would condemn me for doing all I could to preserve this world."

"You've lost your mind." He stared at her in dumbfoundment. "All that time in Purgatory stole your sanity."

"Perhaps." She crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair, her gaze steady and unrelenting. "But the real question is, what made you lose yours?"

"Mine?"

"Why haven't you been allowed down here, Ichabod?"

Heart hammering in his chest, he stiffly replied, "It was my choice."

"Was it?" She asked, her eyebrow lifting almost teasingly. "Tell me, dear husband. Does Abigail know about this little visit?"

Short of breath, he hardened his gaze. "What I do with my time is my business; not Abbie's and most certainly not yours."

"So, you're going to tell her, then?" She leaned forward to where she was within a breath of him. "I am, and always will be, your greatest weakness. No matter how much of yourself you attempt to change, that is something that will always be so. I know it, you know it, and Abigail knows it."

Abruptly pushing away from the table, he headed for the door; his need to be away from her suffocating him.

"You're going to return to me, Ichabod," she called after him, the chains rattling as she moved behind him. "Before this is over, you'll be on your knees begging for my help."

Grabbing the door with a hastiness he couldn't avoid, he slammed it closed and dropped the lock in place.

"God, help me," he whispered as he leaned against it, her words reverberating in his core.

* * *

 **Next up: Nightmares. Jenny's insight.**


	3. Chapter 3

"Daddy!"

It was like having cold water thrown over him, the sharp needle like pain of the icy liquid sending his body into shock and forcing him to bolt upright in a disoriented struggle with the sheet and blanket tangled around him which posed as the unseen assailant who had awoken him.

"Daddy!"

"Bella?"

The darkness of his room forced him to squint in search of the source of his daughter's distraught voice, the sound drawing him deeper into his battle with removing the obstacles around him.

"Daddy!"

Suddenly aware of himself, he half hazardly threw back the blankets and darted from the bed, tripping over the bedding in the process and ending up face first on the ground. Knees and elbows throbbing, he half stumbled half crawled around his doorframe, the sight of fire light flickering in her bedroom spiking fear in his core.

"Bella!"

Quickly picking up the extinguisher he'd placed in the hall closet, he bounded through her door only to find himself abruptly assaulted with smoke.

A cough built in his throat as he peered across the room to find her sitting in her bed, tears streaking her face as she clutched Trigger in her arms, her eyes fixed on her flaming curtains.

"Stay where you are," he shouted as he made haste toward the window, pulling the cap off the extinguisher as he went. A mass of foam burst from the end of the tube, showering the flames that were now licking the ceiling, leaving a blackened area where it touched. Aiming higher, he moved closer to the window as the flames began to extinguish, the heat from the area nearly too much to stand.

When the last of the fire was out, he quickly set the extinguisher down with the intent to flip the latch on the window so he could rid the room of some of the thick smoke. However, his lack of foresight had him jerking his hand back, his fingers singed at the tips.

Biting back a curse, he flexed his fingers as he reached for a shirt close to his feet and managed to successfully get the window open, allowing fresh air to waft in and cleanse the room.

"Daddy?"

"It's alright, sweetheart," he whispered as he tossed the shirt onto her dresser and moved to pick her up with the intention to get her out of the smoke. However, halfway to the door, she began wildly wiggling in his arms.

"Trigger!" She pointed over his shoulder in near panic. "Daddy, don't leave him!"

Briskly turning back for the stuffed puppy, he scooped it up and took one last glance at the once purple curtains before making his way out the door and pulling it closed.

After he had her safely in the bathroom, he sat her on the edge of the sink and began worriedly checking her for signs of injury, his eyes roaming over her pale blue pajama shirt and pants.

"Are you hurt?" He caught her chin and turned her head side to side, inspecting her skin for marks. "Did it burn you anywhere?"

"No," she whispered as she sniffed and tried to peer between his arms. "Is Trigger ok?"

Brow drawn tight, he ran his hands down her arms. "Bella, look at me."

Her eyes, red and puffy, met his, terror clinging in them.

"I want Trigger."

Breathing a sigh of relief that she was at least well enough to ask for that ratty toy, he bent over to pick up the puppy he'd dropped to the tile floor.

"What happened?" he asked as he placed the animal in her lap. "Did you have another nightmare?"

Dark stands of hair fell in front of her face as she dropped her gaze to Trigger, who she was now clutching close to her chest.

"It's alright, Trigger," she whispered to the puppy. "Daddy, stopped the bad thing."

"What bad thing?" he asked as he slipped his fingers under her chin, lifting her gaze to his. "Answer me, Bella."

Her small shoulders turned inward as she shook her head. "Can I sleep with you, daddy?"

The lack of a straight answer had him tiredly running a hand down his face as he took a step back and leaned against the wall.

He couldn't do this anymore. The past three nights had been the same.

From the window cracking to fire's climbing the walls, things had began to spiral too far out of his control. If something didn't happen to help him change this for the better soon, he wasn't sure they'd have a house to live in for much longer.

For two hours after she'd fallen asleep, he'd sat in the chair in the corner of her bedroom, praying they would have at least one night of peace. It seemed such a luxury wasn't something they were going to be having again in the foreseeable future.

"Daddy, are you mad at me?"

The fear in her voice, joined by sorrow and despair, tugged his eyes open to find her staring at him from her place on the edge of the sink, her chin tucked behind Trigger's head, her eyes on the brink of more tears.

"I didn't do it on purpose, I promise."

Heart heavy with his inability to do anything that might solve this, he resumed his place in front of her and cupped her cheeks.

"None of this is your fault." His thumbs caught a few tears which had escaped. "But I promise this won't continue."

"Are you going to make it go away forever?" she asked while wiping at her runny nose. "I don't want to be special anymore."

Unsure of how to respond for fear of making things worse, or promising something he couldn't fulfill, he forced a smile.

"Come on," he said while lifting her up. "Let's get some sleep."

"With you?" Her arms wrapped around his neck. "So you can protect me?"

"Always."

* * *

"Bella, Aunt Jenny is going to be here for you any minute!"

Hurriedly placing her scattered books and homework in her backpack, he did his best to think of anything he might be forgetting. Despite his remarkable memory, he was always forgetting something she needed and the fact that he was functioning on less than two hours of sleep helped nothing.

"Daddy, I can't find my shoes!"

"They're in the bathroom," he yelled back as he pulled her lunch from the fridge and added it to the contents of her backpack.

When she finally came trudging down the hallway, sneakers in hand and a sour expression on her face, she said, "You didn't wash my jumper."

Damn it.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he softly apologized as he picked her up and set her on the barstool so he could put on her sneakers. "Daddy forgot."

"I told you three times, daddy," she groaned, holding the appropriate amount of fingers up as she sagged down on the stool. "You never listen."

"You told me two times," he countered as he slipped on the first sneaker. "And I apologized."

She sighed and crossed her arms, dissatisfaction plain in her countenance. How a small girl could convey so much disdain was ridiculous. It was another reason Katrina could never deny he was her father. Bella was the only person he knew who could out complain him.

"Your blouse looks wonderful on you." He winked at her. "You'll most certainly be the loveliest girl in class."

She shrugged her shoulders as her gaze focused on her shoes, deep conflict swirling in her stormy eyes. If he didn't know any better, he'd say all the joy had permanently been sucked from her.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" He ran his fingers through her hair in the hopes of drawing her out of her current mood. "Are you feeling ill again?"

"Why do I have to be different, daddy?"

The way she said it, all soft and innocent, struck him so much of Katrina he could hardly ignore it. She tended to shift between their personalities like a light switch and he could barely stand it some days.

This would be her first day back at school since her incident as he hadn't wanted to chance any more accidents. So far, during the day, she didn't have magical flares and, thankfully, Katrina's remedy had managed to soothe the stomach aches for a few hours at a time.

"Because you're just like your mother," he whispered, the words feeling strange on his lips.

Bella's eyes flickered up to his, wide and confused. "I am?"

It should never have been a question.

For years, he'd been conflicted over what to reveal about Katrina and what to keep to himself. Always on a tightrope, he danced around the subject like a clumsy fool, only giving the barest and brightest facts of what her mother had been. However, it seemed he'd been far too silent if Bella didn't even know she was like her mother at all.

"Oh, yes," he answered as he slid on her other sneaker. "Do you ever think about her?"

A timid nod was his answer; one so small and hesitant he nearly missed it.

"Why don't you ask me about her anymore?" He was genuinely curious. "At one time, you asked after her every day."

Her eyes flickered to his for a moment before quickly darting back to her shoes. "Because it makes you sad."

Startled by her response, he pulled her laces tight and kept his head down. Had he been so obvious? Had he allowed his own feelings to control him so deeply that his young child had caught on well enough that she ceased her questioning altogether? His heart began beating wildly in his chest as he dropped her foot and stood.

"It does make me sad," he admitted as he lifted his gaze to find her watching him, her eyes wide and curious. "But that's only because I miss her so desperately." Then, with a sigh, he added, "Sweetheart, if you want to know things about your mother, I want you to know that I'll speak of her with you."

A moment ticked by before the small question he'd dreaded since she'd learned what a mother was came.

"Where is my mommy?"

"She's... not here." He ran his fingers through his hair, wishing he had a more eloquent and heartfelt story for her. Instead, he deflected the question. "But you have Abbie and Jenny and I know you love them."

"I know," she said, kicking the heels of her feet against the stool legs while avoiding his eyes. "But they don't live here and Aunt Abbie always works and Aunt Jenny's like my friend."

"Well..." He thought of Betsy and the ever evolving question of who she was to him; a question for which he would soon need an answer. "What if I married? Would that make you happy? You'd have a mother, then."

"But she wouldn't be _my_ mommy." Bella finally looked him straight in the eyes. "I want _my_ mommy, daddy; the one in the picture. I don't want to be like Crystal Sanders and get some weird lady who doesn't look like me."

A horn blew outside, signaling Jenny's arrival.

Barely able to breathe a sigh of relief over the end of that conversation, he tiredly watched Bella jump from the barstool and slip into her backpack.

Gathering the juice and pop tart he'd set out for her, he grabbed her hand and led her out the door toward Jenny's idling truck.

"Hi, Aunt Jenny."

Jenny grinned as Bella hoped into the back seat.

"Hey, munchkin. You ready to go?"

"Not really," Bella groaned as she tossed her backpack into the seat next to her.

"Hey," he said as he leaned into the car and set her breakfast in her lap. "I think you're forgetting something, little miss."

Her brow drew together as he tapped his cheek.

It wasn't a second before a smile broke out over her face and she smacked his cheek.

"Love you, daddy."

Worriedly running his fingers through her hair, he whispered, "I love you too, sweetheart."

Carefully shutting the door, he walked around to the driver's side as Jenny stepped out.

"You sure she's ready to go back? We still haven't really found a solution, yet."

Shrugging his shoulders, he glanced through the back window to find Bella immersed in a book as she munched on her pop tart.

"I need you to tell me about Katrina," he said, dropping his eyes to his shoes.

"Why? Did your visit not tell you enough?"

Jerking his gaze to Jenny, he found her rolling her eyes.

"Oh, come on, Crane." She leaned against the truck. "You come back with handwritten ingredients for a remedy two hours into your late night walk and expect me to believe you just came up with them out of the blue?"

The only energy he had left seeped from him. "Does Abbie know?"

Fear had his muscles tense, ready to flee at any moment. Abbie was not someone he ever wanted angry with him. If she ever was, history told him that meant he was likely in the wrong and that was not a place he wanted to be in now. He had too many issues to also deal with such a touchy subject.

"No," Jenny answered. "I don't think Abbie believes you'd ever visit Katrina. I think she assumed you'd pulled it from a book somewhere and I didn't want to be the one to correct her."

He couldn't blame her. It was a conversation he dreaded having and one he intended to delay for as long as possible.

"Do you think Katrina's sane?"

"Why do you care, now? You said before that you never wanted to know anything about her."

He kicked at the pavement. "I didn't have a terrified little girl, then."

"I don't know what you want me to say, Crane." Jenny crossed her arms. "Have I walked in to find her lying on the floor, weeping to the point that she couldn't breathe? Yeah, I've seen that. I've also seen what a pissed witch locked in a cage looks like, too. I've seen her throw things, break things, and writhe all over the place like she was possessed while cursing you, Abbie, and everyone else she could think of. She's threatened to kill all of us a hundred times over, cursed the day she met you, and said quite a few other things _I_ don't even feel comfortable repeating. All in all, I'd say she's at least touched insanity for sure."

Eyes falling closed, he leaned against the hood in an attempt to hold himself together and possibly stop the slight shake his body had started. He blamed the lack of sleep for his weakness.

"Katrina lost everything and she reacted accordingly," Jenny went on.

"That was her fault," he whispered. "She made the choices; she made _all_ of the choices."

"You mean like the one where she gave up her son, went on the run, and was imprisoned in Purgatory all because she couldn't bear to let you die?"

Bristling at the implication, he growled, "That's _not_ an excuse."

"No, it's not." Jenny chuckled. "Look, I'm not defending her. She went crazy and she's a level of selfish I've never seen before, but..."

"But what?" he asked, turning to face her, his brow drawn tight. "How can there possibly be a 'but'?"

Jenny shifted in discomfort and glanced at Bella. "I just... seeing her screaming for her baby..."

Narrowing his eyes, he felt his skin prickle as he asked, "You think I was wrong to take Bella from her?"

"I think... Katrina wanted unconditional love, something you stopped giving her a long time before she switched sides, and that was something she would have obtained through her baby." She shook her head. "In my honest opinion, I don't think Katrina would ever do anything to hurt Bella, but as someone who loves that kid, myself, and as someone who knows what Katrina is capable of... No, I don't think you were wrong to keep them apart."

"Then, what do I do now, Jenny?" He held out his hands, desperate for an answer. "We can't attempt to bind her magic on our own. What if we do it wrong? Or something happens? I'm not willing to risk Bella in such a way."

"You do whatever you have to do for your daughter and we'll figure it out from there."

"Aunt Jenny, we're going to be late."

Lifting his head, he found Bella leaning out the back window with a rather perturbed look on her face.

"Yeah, yeah," Jenny muttered as she climbed into her truck. "Get back in the car and chill out, Miss grouchy pants."

Bella rolled her eyes and plopped back in her seat as he moved to open her door.

"If you need anything, you call me, understand?" He pulled her seatbelt back around her and secured it. "I'll come straight away."

"I know, daddy."

Tapping her nose, he earned a giggle as he backed away and closed the door.

While the truck pulled out, he watched them drive away with a growing dread in his heart.

He couldn't spend another day like this.

* * *

 **Next up: A heated argument. A desperate bargain.**


	4. Chapter 4

There had been many times throughout his life that he'd considered himself lost; the kind of lost that left one without hope of life ever picking them up from the desolate mire in which they were caught.

As a boy and even as far into his adulthood as it had taken him to enlist, he'd been coddled under his mother's affections and prided at the feet of his father. He had been their greatest joy and most treasured confidant. Countless hours had been spent with him at his mother's side, the two of them lost in dreams of the future and tales of the past, whereas in his father's presence, he'd been stimulated with rum and politics as the elder Crane had done his best to outwit and surprise him with knowledge. From the time he'd been a small boy, and his father had learned just how much his memory held, his father had taken to jotting down the most random of facts to hold close and quiz him on later throughout the years. His father's wonder had never ceased while speaking with him; something that had filled him with such pride of which to be on the receiving end. To this day, it still pained him to dwell on those times. The loss of their love upon his change of heart during the war had been significant; an emptiness he felt even now in this modern era; centuries later.

However, the loss hadn't ceased there for then had come the saga of Abraham and Katrina, a set of names, when spoken together, which had never failed to bring a spike of envy and longing to his heart. The arrangement between their families had seemed so callous at the time; a forcing of two hearts to spend eternity bound under the eyes of God no matter the wishes of said hearts. He'd watched them through covetous eyes all the while praying he could lessen the desire he'd felt whenever in Katrina's presence; that unyielding, unbreakable yearning to have her heart close to his. It had caused him such turmoil due to Abraham having been his best friend since boyhood, his bonded brother through the hardships of school and university, yet the ever widening chasm and ultimate break in their friendship had become an inevitability the day he'd encountered Katrina van Tassel in the home of Arthur Bernard.

He'd often wondered if he'd been struck with the lust of her body, or if it truly had been the meeting of two souls destined to find one another. That day had set the course of his heart in more ways than one. In the span of a few heartbeats, he'd become bound to those gold-green eyes with a burning desire to never be parted from them this side of eternity.

But, then, he'd lost her, or rather... she'd lost him. Two centuries had broken their all too short time together as fate had seen fit to only give them six years of blissful happiness before tearing them asunder with a violent sweep of a blade at the hand of their former friend.

More than that, fate had taken him at a time when he'd needed to be with her most. The regret he felt over not having been there for his son was, to this day, a plague against his heart. He felt the loss with a crushing weight upon his soul; one he was sure would never be lifted.

That was the thing he'd learned about choice. One choice led to another and another. His choice to breathe Katrina's love for him to Abraham that fateful day on the path had been the tempest that had set fire to this entire storm; the storm who's effects were still being felt to this day; over two centuries later.

It was the question he often asked himself. If he'd remained silent, if he'd use a modicum of more decorum on that day, would things have occurred differently? Would he and Katrina have been able to slowly acquaint Abraham with the love that existed between them?

The dark, dreary tunnels did nothing but add to his lost sense of direction. How would his choices today effect tomorrow?

This time, after quietly allowing the tunnels to lead him to his destination, there was no stopping on his part to lament at the window; to pause and wonder over how life came to be this way.

No, this time, he went right for the door, knowing nothing on this earth could right this course he was on other than the occupant within its hold.

To his relief, Katrina was once again at the desk, writing away in her journal, when he wearily shoved the door open and strode into the room, no more certain of his path with her than he'd been three days earlier.

Her posture stiffened at his sudden entrance, but she didn't stand. Instead, she observed his progress with the same calculating eyes he'd been watched under during his previous visit until he was right in front of her.

"Another visit so soon?"

The smugness on her face was an irritant he attempted to ignore, but he found it tugging at his nerves all the same. If anyone had the ability to successfully get under his skin, it was Katrina. In all his life, he'd never encountered another being who could both read and push him better than her. The ease with which she directed his moods frightened him more than anything else. He considered it to be one of her witchy abilities as no natural born human being could possibly harbor such skill.

Instead of rising to her bait, he simply stared at her, contemplating all the dreams they'd once whispered in the dark of night, their bodies entwined, desperate for the warmth of their lover. Times had been so much simpler then; so much more peaceful. Their greatest joy had come with the caress of the other's hand; a kiss filled with so much more meaning than one could comprehend; a whisper of affection while in the throes of passion. He longed for the days where he could whisper his heart's desire in her ear; where he could touch her, reach for her in the night, whether it be for her tender touch or her warm comfort.

Now, she sat, her posture rigid and almost taunting. She was still as beautiful as ever, her light summer dress clinging to her skin in all the appropriate places. However, she bore no kindness in her gaze, nor any of the love he'd once depended upon like a breath of fresh air. Everything was now all a game to her; one chess move after another.

"I've been going over and over it in my mind, how we arrived at this place, and I can't seem to put a finger on where it all began to go so very wrong." He held his hand out, palm up, as the burn in his eyes continued to build. "You spent all that time in Purgatory for me out of love. What did I do to now make you hate me so?"

A low sigh slipped from her nose as she sat back in her chair, her eyes flickering to the picture of Bella, which sat at the corner of her desk.

"I once believed love to be a gift; that it was sweet and warm; that it was all that mattered in the world." Gold-green met his blue gaze with a biting sting. "However, I've learned that it isn't perfect and it doesn't dwell in your heart regardless of your choices. It's hard and it's rough. It pushes and pulls you in directions that are at times difficult to handle. It requires sacrifice and strength." She raised an eyebrow. "Love is not a luxury afforded to the selfish. It is not something that forever remains without care and acknowledgment."

"It also requires trust," he added, his gaze unwavering. "It requires commitment, two things you seem incapable of."

A small laugh broke her face into a smile as she tilted her head. "Oh, my dear, Ichabod. You speak of things you know nothing of."

"Then, tell me." He stepped forward and leaned against the table, his heart hammering against his chest as though it wished to tear from him. "Tell me how you've deluded yourself into believing I was in the wrong. Tell me how you justify your lies, Katrina."

"What lies?" she asked, her eyes wide with mocking. "The ones you accuse me of, or the one's that actually took place?"

Unable to believe she was playing at this game with him, he dug his fingers into the wood. "I have accused you of nothing that isn't true."

Barely a feature on her flawless face shifting, she crossed her arms, chains clinging together, leaving him to stand resolute under the guise of being unintimidated, something very hard to do in the face of her calm and collected gaze. Why couldn't she, for once, cave to his authority? She was his _prisoner_ and yet she acted as if she had all the power in the world.

"Tell me what I could have done differently in regards to our son."

"You could have told me!"

"When?" She leaned against the table. "Tell me when I could have told you, Ichabod. When would it have been an appropriate time in your opinion?"

Face burning, he gripped the edge of the table to keep himself from physically laying hands on her, his breathing shallow and labored. "That first dream."

"Oh," she whispered as she sat back. "So, it's your _opinion_ that I should have squeezed not only a congratulations, but also a condolence, into those two short minutes we had between supplying the information you needed about the horseman, explaining my witchcraft, and Moloch arriving to rip you from me. _That_ is the time you would have liked to have learned of the son you'd desired for so long, but would never know?"

Clenching his jaw, he moved to speak, but she held up a hand.

"Let's pretend I had told you. That I'd said, 'By the way, my love, I gave birth to your son, but was forced to relinquish my claim to him in order to protect you'." Her brow drew tight. "Would that have been best? Or would it have been cruel to tell you such a thing and then expect you to continue to focus on your mission?" Her voice softened ever so slightly as she relaxed back into her chair. "There was nothing to be done for Jeremy at that point. I'd thought him dead for centuries as you would have as well. It was a conversation meant for the two of us in private, a conversation that should have had us together physically so we could take comfort in one another. It wasn't something trivial to be thrown into conversation as though speaking of the _weather_."

Hot under the collar, he pushed back from the table and paced away from her, choosing to instead stare at the candle flickering on the far wall.

He hated when she justified herself, how easily she manipulated his emotions, and yet... he had no rebuttal. In truth, he'd been so focused on the secret she'd kept that he'd hardly given any attention to the circumstances surrounding it.

Lifting a hand to his eyes, he rubbed his fingers against the lids, hoping some response would present itself.

When _would_ have been the right time? After that first dream, he'd awoken to doctors swarming and restraining him before Abbie had come in and rescued him from that awful facility. Then, they'd gone straight into battle with the Horseman, barely having a moment to formulate a proper plan. That first day had been utter chaos and he'd been so lost in the new world; fumbling to perform even the smallest of tasks. How would news of the son he'd never known have changed his choices that day? How would he have functioned while also attempting to reconcile his joy and subsequent loss?

"Nightmares," he whispered as he wiped his hand down his face, finished with playing at games he could never win. He wasn't even sure why he bothered trying any more.

"What?"

"Nightmares have plagued her every night since the awakening of her magic and, as a result, her room is steadily becoming unlivable due to the magic she's unintentionally expelling."

"Her power will only grow greater as time carries on. It's a force of nature that will not be stopped and, without her properly understanding how to control it, the magic will destroy everything in its path."

An unintentional tremble shook his body as he shifted around to face her. If Bella's magic became any more destructive, they'd soon be in need of a new home.

"Just... tell me what to do for her, Katrina." He placed his palms to the desk and all but sank to his knees in front of her. "I'll do anything you say, just tell me."

Eyes flickering away from him, he observed the way she withdrew her emotion, leaving only that unreadable expression, as she took to staring at the journal laid open on the desk.

"There's nothing to be done. Her magic is a part of her and it must be honed and practiced. Ignoring it or attempting to fight it will only lead to more destruction."

Disheartened by her lack of advice, he pressed his head to edge of the table and sighed, his helplessness taking hold of him.

"What if..." He swallowed the thick feeling in his throat. "What if we bound it?"

Silence.

The tension between them became so suffocating that he had to remind himself to draw breath. Her aura was an intimidating force; one he could feel without touching or gazing at her. However, when he finally forced himself to lift his gaze to her, he found not one, but a myriad of emotions being flung at him.

Surprise. Realization. Disbelief. Acceptance. Rage.

Each of those emotions played out over her face before that eerie calm returned; one that had him finding his feet again before she became the one to lay hands on him.

"That is _never_ going to happen," she growled as she leaned over the table. "Bella is a witch. You're not going to tear that piece of her away to suit your own selfish desire to change and mold her into the perfect idea of what you want."

"That's not what I'm doing," he argued, his brow drawn tight.

Eyes narrowed into slits, she flung a finger at him. "That is exactly what you wanted from me. You wanted me to return to being the doting housewife who met your every need; who prepared your dinner, sucked your cock, and stroked your ego whenever you needed uplifting. You couldn't stand the idea that I wasn't the perfect picture of what you wanted anymore."

Anger to match her own swept through him as he placed his hands on the table and closed the distance between them, no longer fearing the weight of her power.

Mere inches from her face, his chest tightened at the feel each of her ragged breaths washing against his cheeks.

"I am no more ashamed of my daughter than I was of you. I'd give anything to see her flourish in the gifts of her heritage just as I'd have done for you had I had any knowledge of such gifts." He narrowed his eyes and dropped his voice, wanting her to see and hear each word clearly. "I don't care what it takes, or what I have to do. This is about keeping Bella safe and I'm willing to go to whatever lengths I must to ensure her safety and happiness. Don't you _ever_ entertain the idea that my motivation comes from elsewhere again."

Unsurprisingly, she never flinched under his heat, causing his will to falter ever so slightly. Battling against her would prove useless. Katrina was not a creature to be swayed by heartfelt pleas, or commanding words. She only responded to angles; to choices that benefitted her. So, he had to approach her from a different angle. He had to approach her as a father speaking to the mother of his child. If there was anything Katrina would respond to, it would be the welfare and happiness of their child.

"She's frightened from the changes happening to her and I'm powerless to help her." He swallowed his pride. "Only you can do that, Katrina. Only _you_ can help her."

Her shoulders slumped forward as she pressed her head into her hands, her eyes screwing tightly shut.

"You don't understand," she whispered, voice soft. "To bind her magic would be one of the most painful things you could do to her."

"What are you talking about?" He dipped his head to see her more clearly. "How could it pain her?"

"You would cut her off from a part of herself. She would spend the rest of her life feeling like a piece of herself was missing; disconnected." She lifted her head, her eyes filled with more emotion than he'd seen her covey in years. "Trust me, Ichabod, you don't want to force her to live such a life."

"Trust you?" He pushed himself away from the table. "I might be unsure of how to help Bella, but the one thing I am certain of is that I most definitely cannot trust you; not now; not _ever_."

There was a moment of something he would have like to have called hurt that flashed in her eyes, but it was gone as soon as it appeared, leaving him to wonder if it was ever there in the first place. Maybe he just wanted to see something in her worth depending on.

"Fair enough," she said evenly. "But you can be certain that I'd do anything for my child and I'm telling you that binding her magic isn't an option. If I thought it would make life easier for her, I'd do it in a heartbeat, regardless of my feelings, but she's a witch, Ichabod, and she's going to remain so until the day she breathes her last breath."

Frustration consumed him as he turned and paced away from her, his gaze returning to the far wall. She could be so damned stubborn sometimes and it was leaving him with fewer options than he was comfortable having. However, he knew time wasn't on his side and the corner he'd been forced into was growing darker by the minute.

"When Bella was three, she began asking for you," he said softly, hoping the change in direction would get them somewhere. "Her best friend is another girl her age and, since infancy, they've spent so many hours together. I suppose Bella began to realize what a mother was through observing her friend with her own mother. It was inevitable that she would notice she, herself, didn't have one."

He ran a hand through his hair and turned back to her, the lost expression on her face doing nothing to help the choice with which he was seemingly stuck.

"No matter how evasive I was with my answers, she would persist and, after a while, she began wanting to know what you looked like." He pulled the photo from his shirt pocket and placed it on the table. "She keeps this at her bedside and most nights it's the last thing she looks at before falling asleep."

A moment's confusion swept over her features before she abruptly stood from the table, her chair scraping the stone floor, and paced away, her back to him.

"I'd hoped it would be enough," he continued, not wanting to squander this moment of opportunity. "I could barely bring myself to speak of you and, besides that, I wasn't even sure how to begin explaining where you were, or why you weren't there with her."

He eased around the table to stand behind her, his eyes remaining on her crimson hair which was draped over her slumped shoulders. This was his moment, his opportunity, to attempt to endear her to his feelings.

"Katrina, you must see how deeply I love and cherish our daughter."

When she didn't give any reaction, he felt his hope faltering. Were his words effecting her at all?

"This isn't the past; it isn't Jeremy." Tears welled in his eyes as he recalled her screams. "The last thing I wanted to do that day was separate the two of you. I was just so afraid that you'd take her and I'd lose my little girl."

"So, instead, you took her from me," she countered, spinning to face him, her eyes narrowed into slits, even as unshed tears glistened in them. "You took my baby from my womb and never _once_ let me see her."

A sob slipped between her lips, prompting him to unconsciously lurch forward. He'd never coped very well with his wife being distraught and time had not lessened his urge to comfort her pain.

"Do you have any idea what that did to me? What it was like for me to lose a second child without ever having the opportunity to know them? I don't know what her voice sounds like, Ichabod. I've never even _touched_ her."

The thickened sound of her voice gave way to the emotion bubbling just beneath the surface. It was enough to have him itching to hold her.

"Perhaps, I was being selfish," he admitted, desperate to find a path on which they could find solidarity. "But what other option did I have, Katrina? You were threatening me. You tried to _kill_ me; _multiple_ times."

She looked away, but he reached out and grasped her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. She had to see the truth in him; the earnestness.

"You're here because of the choices you made; selfish choices that left me with next to no options." He loosened his grip to where he was simply cupping her cheeks. "You being down here was the last thing I wanted, something I would have fought like hell against had any other option been available to me." The tears burning his eyes began falling over his lashes. "Katrina, I needed you, but I had a little girl to protect and I was only trying to do what I thought was best for her."

Wiping a thumb beneath her lashes, he caught the tears attempting to trail down her cheeks.

"Had I done what you did, would you have allowed me to remain in our child's life?"

Her body shook as she sucked in a shaky breath. "I just wanted to be with him. Jeremy was all I wanted."

Throat closing off, he went against his better judgment and pulled her into his arms, wrapping her in his embrace and holding her close.

"I know." He pressed his lips to her hair. "I know."

The constant tremble that was riddling her body prompted him to tighten his hold on her. Perhaps, it was an act, or a play on his emotions, but he couldn't help himself when it came to her being in pain. It was as though he was overcome with a compulsion to comfort her.

"I can bring her here," he whispered, despite the dread he felt at Bella ever seeing this place. "You can help her here."

Katrina abruptly jerked from him and backed away, her face contorted in disbelief. "Absolutely not!"

"Katrina, I'm not fond of the idea of Bella being down here either, but I'm left with little other choice."

"You would have our daughter, our precious little girl, see me this way? You would have this be the first sight she would have of her mother?" She crossed her arms over her chest as she backed further away from him, the chains dangling from her wrists. "Ichabod, have you lost your mind?"

At a loss for what to do, he wiped a hand down his face. "She must have help, Katrina."

"Of course, but that isn't the way. That can _never_ be the way. I'd rather never meet her than have her see me this way."

"What would you have me do, Katrina!?" Frustration took hold of him as he flung his hands up. "Let you go!?"

She actually flinched as she tightened her arms around herself, her countenance downcast.

"You could bind my magic."

The low whisper had him straining to hear her.

"What?" He took a step toward her. "I thought you said-"

"That I wouldn't do it to her," she cut in as she avoided his eyes; a fidgetiness coming over her that he recognized as nervousness. "I imagine you'd delight in further tearing me apart."

Her words ripped at him, but it didn't stop his mind from weighing the possibility.

"And what would stop you from simply reversing the bind on your power the moment you were alone?" When she didn't answer, he sighed and did so for her. "Nothing."

In truth, he didn't even know what to do anymore. The idea now circling in his mind certainly hadn't been there when he'd entered this room earlier, but it seemed it was fast becoming his last option.

"I don't trust you, Katrina." He tiredly shrugged his shoulders. "I haven't trusted you for a very long time and I know I never will again."

Her gold-green eyes fell to his shirt as she gave a small nod.

"I know I can't expect the truth, but I have to ask." He swallowed the knot in his throat. "If I were to let you out right now, would you take Bella from me?"

There was so much happening in those gold-green orbs that he could hardly stand to look upon her. He knew it was a ridiculous question and he briefly wondered when he'd lost his mind. Perhaps, the lack of sleep was a contributor.

"I still wish you pain," she whispered, her eyes still on his shirt. "I would truthfully delight in taking Bella away so you'd know what it felt like to have your child ripped from you." She stepped closer to him, her breasts just barely brushing his chest as she finally lifted her gaze to his. "But I wouldn't do it now; not out of consideration for you, but for Bella."

Gaze intently focused on hers, he ignored the urge to hold her, or even acknowledge that she was touching him. "For Bella?"

"If you've been even half the father I always imagined you would be, then, Bella is likely deeply attached to you and I could never rob her of that." A heavy breath slipped between her lips as she reached up to gently grasp his hand. "I'll do and be whatever you want if it helps her."

Heartbeat raging wildly beneath his ribs, he stared at her for a long moment, catching every ounce of the sincerity exuding from her. Then again, he could be imagining it. She was so adept at the games she played that he couldn't be certain of anything, most especially while she was touching him; her fingers tenderly caressing his knuckles as she leaned even closer into his chest, her breasts now pressing into him. It was enough to make his heart skip a beat.

"Are you trying to manipulate me?"

She tilted her head, a small smile flickering over her lips. "Does it matter?"

Eyes falling closed, he relaxed against her. "Please, don't."

"I can see that you love Bella. You said all you want is Bella's happiness and safety. Would the two of us together, tucking her in at night, not make her happy? I can provide Bella with the love of a mother as well as help nurture her magic. Can't you imagine all the wonder Bella will grow to achieve? How many lives she'll touch?"

Hands at her waist, he backed her into the stone pillar, needing her to stop moving and attempting to confuse him.

"I just... I need to think."

"About what?" Her fingers slid over his chest. "We'll never be what we were, Ichabod, but we can be enough for Bella. All I want is to be her mother."

Resting his forehead to hers, he shook his head and whispered, "I want to believe you."

He felt the chains at his neck as she slid her arms around his shoulders. It was enough to bring his eyes open, searching out her intentions. She was so close; her breath hot on his face.

"I'll be whatever you want."

Her lips brushed his cheek, causing him to inhale sharply due to the assault against his senses.

"Katrina..."

"I know you miss me." Her lips pressed to the corner of his mouth, beckoning him to turn into her. "Let us be a family, Ichabod."

She was everywhere; her hands in his hair and her body flush against his. The scent of her skin was so soothing and the gentle pressure she kept on his crotch wasn't unnoticed either. Everything about her was overtaking him; leaving him without his ability to reason.

"I think you were right," he whispered as his fingers closed around her waist, twisting in the fabric of her dress to hold her close. "I have lost my mind."

* * *

 **So, no angry sex in the Masonic Cell as the one reviewer would have liked, but don't think I didn't think about it lol. However, I do have a one shot in the last stages of editing that has them doing just that after Ichabod hears Katrina tell Abraham that she cares about him during the Akeda episode ;) I'm saving it as a rainy day post.**

 **Anyway, does Ichabod let Katrina out? I guess, we'll see. She surely is trying her best to convince him to do just that, huh? That manipulative witch!**

 **Your thoughts are always appreciated, darling readers :)**


	5. Chapter 5

Doubt was a very powerful villain he'd come to be close friends with in his lifetime. It followed him everywhere he went, whispering in his ear, going on and on about all his shortcomings; as a man, son, husband, friend, and father. The list was endless.

Even now, as he watched his little girl run across the playground amongst the other children, a smile stretching her lips, he could hear the whispers taunting him. They told of his fears, his flaws, his mistakes. There was no stone the whispers didn't over turn to reveal the disgusting truths of just beneath the surface.

The gravel crunched under his shoes as he made his way toward Bella while the sun beat down on him from overhead, raging with heat and what he felt was seething judgment.

"Daddy!"

The sound of his daughter's voice, no matter his inner thoughts, could bring a smile to his face when nothing else could. As she ran toward him, her long, dark hair bouncing in its ponytail, he eased down on one knee and waited for her to reach him.

The moment she did, she jumped into his arms with a giggle.

"What are you doing here, silly?" She set her hands on his shoulders. "I thought Aunt Jenny was picking me up?"

"Really?" He looked at his watch before throwing a thumb over his shoulder. "I suppose I should go, then."

Her fingers tightened in his shirt as she narrowed her eyes. "I don't think so, mister."

Sharing in her grin, he tapped her nose with a chuckle. "You've won me over."

"Thank heavens," she said, before leaning close. "I've done good today, daddy. No accidents."

Sorrow welled in his chest. For her to ever have to whisper such a thing tore at his heart. The idea that his little girl had to walk on egg shells around something that should be so precious to her was not something he felt comfortable allowing to continue.

"You always do good, sweetheart."

A smile flickered over her lips, but as her eyes glanced over his shoulder, it faded in an instant.

He was well aware of what, or, more accurately, at _who_ she was looking.

"Who's that, daddy?" she whispered, her voice tentative, almost afraid.

With a weary sigh, he looked behind him and found Katrina standing just outside the fence, her arms crossed just below her breasts as she nervously shifted her feet. Her red hair, catching every glint the sun had to offer, was a stark contrast to the light blue dress she wore, which touched just above her knees, giving ample view of her long legs.

For a moment, he found himself frozen. Such beauty hiding such deadly power.

"Daddy?" He turned back to Bella, who was anxiously twisting her jacket sleeves, her gold-green eyes still plastered on Katrina. "She's watching us."

"I know, Angel," he whispered as he gently pulled her gaze to his. "I did what you asked."

Bella's eyes, so like her mother's, danced over his face, a hope shining in them. "Is she my mommy?"

The words rolled off her tongue so naturally, almost as if they'd been marinating there all day, just waiting for the opportunity to be voiced.

Unable to verbally answer, he nodded his head and watched as Bella returned her gaze to Katrina, nervousness now clear on her innocent face. He could hardly imagine what it must be like to look upon your mother for the first time; someone you'd longed to know for as long as you could remember.

"But my hair is all messed up and..." Bella glanced down at her clothes. "And I'm not dressed pretty."

Amused that she would go straight to worrying after her appearance, he brushed her dark hair behind her ear and adjusted her blouse beneath her jacket.

"You look beautiful as always, Bella." He slipped his finger beneath her chin and leveled their gazes. "I love you."

Her dark lashes blinked at him as she whispered, "I love you, too, daddy."

Nodding, he glanced at her sneakers before continuing, "I know you must be confused and excited all at once." He sighed and caught her eyes again, which were once again on Katrina. "Your mother... it hasn't been possible for her to be here with you before now."

Bella's eyes shifted back to him as her brow drew tight. "Why not?"

Unsure of how to address the issue, he chose to ignore it for now.

"She simply hasn't," he whispered before quickly adding, "But she's here now and... I know she desperately wants to know you."

"She does?"

The quiet question tore his heart to shreds. How often had she doubted her mother's love?

"She loves you more than anything in the world."

His daughter looked over his shoulder again, her cheek caught between her teeth.

"I just need to know that this is what you truly want." He shifted his weight to his other leg. "Alright?"

Bella nodded as she chewed her cheek. "Is she going to come over?"

Swallowing against the thick feeling in his throat, he nodded and glanced back at Katrina.

When they'd parked, he'd asked her to wait at the car and was surprised that she'd agreed given her history of going against everything he said. However, he supposed she'd been working up her nerve as much as he head. On the drive over, she'd barely been able to keep herself still. The anticipation seeping off her had nearly been tangible.

A shadow passed over him before he felt her presence at his side; an all too alluring presence.

"Hello, Bella," Katrina whispered, her voice wavering, sounding more on the verge of tears than anything else.

For her part, Bella moved closer within his embrace, prompting him to wrap his arms around her and place a kiss to her temple, hoping to give her a little assurance that he was here for her.

Finally taking a good look at Katrina for himself, he witnessed the tears glistening in her eyes; the emotion in that sea of green all too real.

"You're so beautiful," Katrina whispered, her voice trembling. "I-I've imagined this moment for so long and, yet, I find myself unsure of what I should say."

Bella smiled, her dark hair falling into her eyes as she twisted her sleeves in her fingers. "Me, too."

As neither seemed ready to begin conversation, he once again brushed Bella's hair over her ear. At the touch, Bella cast him another hesitant glance, almost as if asking for permission to make a move, before she eased out of his embrace and lifted her hand out toward Katrina. However, when their fingers touched, Bella jerked back suddenly, her eyes wide and her breathing quickened as she returned to his arms.

His brow drew tight as he met Katrina's eyes, which were now darting between Bella and her hands in a slightly panicked manner. Accusation was on the tip of his tongue, but the sight of her clear discontent over the situation stilled his reaction.

"What happened?"

"I'm so sorry," Katrina whispered as she clenched her fingers into a fist. "It's been so long since I've been in tune with my magic."

She moved closer to him and Bella, allowing her shoulder to touch his and unintentionally cause him to tense, ready to sweep Bella away from her completely.

"I promise, it won't happen again." Katrina hesitated, her eyes flickering to him before returning to Bella, as she added, "When you were in my belly, even though I couldn't access it, our magic was connected and, just now, when we touched, it recognized each other; sort of like two friends connect after having not seen each other for a long while."

Relieved it hadn't been anything too serious, he nodded and cupped the back of Bella's head, which was pressed deep into his neck as her fingers clutched at his shirt.

"I want it to go away, daddy," she whispered against his neck as her small chest rose and fell at a quickened pace.

"I know, sweetheart," he said, as he rubbed his hands up and down her back, keeping his eyes on Katrina who looked as in need of a hug as Bella. "But your mother's here to help you control it. It won't be so scary soon."

Katrina's eyes flickered to his as she gnawed at her bottom lip. If she began to look any more nervous, he'd have to find her some medication. There was so much hesitation in her eyes; so much fear of rejection that he could practically feel it radiating off her. It was such a change from the controlled and even intimidating presence she'd attempted to maintain during their previous encounters.

After a few breaths had been sucked in, Bella finally pulled back, her eyes full of hope. "Promise?"

Quickly nodding with a smile, he tilted his head toward Katrina. "Go on."

With that motivation, Bella finally accepted Katrina's hand, her movements slow and wary, testing the touch for further occurrences beyond her control.

When nothing happened, Bella glanced back at him, prompting him to smile and encourage her with another nod.

"Are you like me?" Bella asked softly as Katrina's fingers rubbed back and forth over Bella's knuckles. "Daddy says I'm special."

A breathless laugh slipped between Katrina's lips as she nodded. "Yes, we're very much alike and very special."

Bella leaned close to Katrina and whispered, "Do you set things on fire, too?"

"I can." Katrina shifted her position, her knees now digging into the grass so she could kneel at the same height as Bella. "And I can do so many other wonderful things; things you'll be able to do one day as well."

"I don't really want to," Bella said, her gaze falling to her sneakers. "Can you make it go away?"

He sucked in a breath as he fixed his gaze on Katrina, waiting for her reaction. In his opinion, what she did could go a few ways, some in his favor and some not. With Bella personally asking for assistance in being rid of her magic, he worried Katrina might accuse him of brainwashing her. Then again, it could be what Katrina needed to hear to know that Bella was afraid and desperate for normalcy.

"Why are you crying?" Bella asked as she lifted a hand to wipe at Katrina's tear streaked cheek. "You don't have to cry, mommy."

Katrina seemed lost for words as she blinked at Bella, uncertainty lacing her features. He once again found himself struck by how out of sorts Katrina was. Everything about her was raw, right there for him to see in ways he hadn't been able to in centuries.

Knowing she needed assistance, he placed his hand to Bella's back and assured, "She's just happy to see you, sweetheart. She's been looking forward to meeting you for quite some time."

Katrina caught his eyes for a moment, a surprising amount of gratefulness being offered in her gaze, before she met Bella's curious green eyes. "Is it alright if I hug you?"

Without a word either way, Bella stepped right into Katrina and wrapped her arms around her neck, her slender limbs tangling in Katrina's long, red hair.

As Katrina encompassed Bella in an embrace, he found himself riveted by the sight of mother and daughter. They seemed to fit so well together; so naturally. Both were smiling, clearly happy to be in the other's company, and he suddenly felt doubt creep over him. Had he been wrong to keep Katrina away for so long? Could Bella have had this sort of love from the start?

"Ichabod, is everything alright?"

Springing to his feet, he felt a hot prickly sensation start to overtake him.

"Betsy."

As she came to a stop before him, she raised an eyebrow as her dark eyes darted from him to Bella and Katrina, who were still kneeling on the ground. "Is something wrong?"

"I-" He began fidgeting with his shirt collar. "This is, uhm..."

His worst nightmare.

Katrina, who was now standing, had her eyes fixed on Betsy's hand, which was gently stroking his arm. If he wasn't imagining things, he might have seen a small amount of heat flash in her gold-green orbs.

"This is my mommy, Ms. Ross." Bella took Katrina's hand, a bright smile on her face. "She came to see me."

Betsy's eyes widened as she stared at Bella, seeming to struggle with the assertion. Then, ever so slowly, her gaze worked its way to him.

For his part, he felt like he was literally sweating bullets.

"Betsy, I can explain. This is-"

"Katrina Crane," Katrina cut in, a thin smile on her face as she held her hand out to Betsy. "I'm Ichabod's wife."

Sure she'd lost her mind, he swiveled to Katrina with wide eyes. However, the way her eyes slid to his, a glint in them to match the smirk on her face, was all he needed to know she was taking a dig at him. Then again, she could just be staking a claim. What had happened in the cell earlier still weighed on his mind as he wasn't sure what it all meant that she'd basically promised to be whatever he wanted. What did that mean? What intention did she have in regards to him? The nature in which she had made her offer, the way she'd touched and pressed her mouth to him, had been of a clearly sexual kind, but what did that truly entail? What's more was the question of if he wanted such an offer to come to fruition.

"Former wife, as we're long separated and estranged," he clarified, clearing his throat and attempting to banish his other, less appropriate, thoughts. "She's returned home to be closer to Bella."

"Oh," Betsy said, as she crossed her arms. "Well, that's just... wonderful."

"Is mommy going home with us, daddy?"

The hopefulness in Bella's voice was hard to ignore. Add on the way she was clinging to Katrina and he knew there was no denying her. To be honest, he hadn't really thought this that far through. Exhaustion plagued him and he was really only functioning in his ability to make plans with minute to minute intervals.

"Yes, sweetheart, why don't you and your mother go get your things while I speak with Ms. Ross?"

As Bella happily began leading Katrina toward the school, he turned to Betsy, who was watching them with a confused expression.

"I know this is unexpected," he began as he reached for her hand. "I'm so sorry to spring it on you without warning."

Not that he'd had any proper warning, either. This was all entirely new.

Gaze still fixed on Bella and Katrina as they walked away, Betsy said, "You told me Bella's mother wasn't a part of her life."

"She hasn't been," he said as he quickly scrambled for an excuse. "Mine and Katrina's lives drifted in opposite directions and..."

"Yeah, you told me that before," she said as she turned to him, her eyes filled with questions. "But what I took from the way you said it was that her mother wasn't interested in being a mother, which is why you have full custody."

"That's-" He let her hands go to run them both down his face. "This was an unexpected reunion."

Why hadn't he just taken Bella home to introduce her to Katrina? It would have left this problem for another day as he hadn't even considered Betsy being here on the drive over. He didn't want to consider the implications of what his lack of foresight regarding her could mean. She'd been so concerned over the past few days, constantly checking in on Bella. How could he have forgotten her?

"So, she just popped up without warning?" Betsy glanced back at the school. "She didn't even tell you?"

The hole he was in was only getting deeper.

"It's complicated," he began, wishing he'd thought this out beforehand. "But I think it's safe to say that Katrina is here for good. She's serious about being here for Bella."

"And you're alright with that?" Betsy stared at him, confusion lacing her dark features. "I find that very hard to believe with how protective you are of Bella. I mean, you haven't even spoken to her since Bella's birth. How do you even know what kind of person she is now?"

"I don't," he answered, being honest for the first time. "I honestly can't be sure of what Katrina will do now that she's back, but I truly feel she has Bella's best interests at heart. If there's one thing I know about her, it's that she loves our daughter."

Eyes falling closed, Betsy shook her head. "This is crazy."

Taking her hands in a gentle hold, he leaned close to her. "I'm so sorry about this. Here I am, meant to be making some sort of decision in regards to a future for us and now I've gone and made life more difficult for everyone."

When she met his eyes, she whispered, "Ichabod, I care for you and Bella a great deal. I just don't want to see her get hurt."

"I know and-"

"I'm ready, daddy!"

Jerking back from Betsy as though burned, he turned to find Bella skipping with a smile, her hand still locked in Katrina's.

Katrina, on the other hand, wasn't smiling. She wasn't exactly glaring, but he felt she was surely frying Betsy alive in her mind. It left him with the urge to take another whole step away from Betsy as a precaution.

"That's good, sweetheart," he said, forcing his own smile as he avoided both women's eyes in favor of his daughter's. "Well, uh..." He cleared his throat and bent to pick Bella up. "We should get you home, then."

"Mommy, too?" she asked, her smile brighter than it had been in days.

Her happiness was so contagious that he couldn't help his own smile's turn to one of genuineness. "Of course."

Betsy placed her hand on his arm as she looked up at Bella. "I'm very happy you're well again, Bella."

"Thanks, Ms. Ross."

Betsy smiled and turned to Katrina, who seemed to be in deep thought. "It was nice to meet you. I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again soon if you're to be staying in Sleepy Hollow."

A thin smile eased onto Katrina's face.

"I'm sure we will." Katrina, then, laid a hand to his back, her touch sending the whisper of a thrill through him. "This is where my family is, after all."

The slight inflection on the word 'my' set his heart to beating more quickly.

Not wishing to endure another moment of this uncomfortable situation, he nodded to Betsy and began walking toward the car, all the while wondering into what sort of mess he'd just gotten himself.

* * *

 **Well, that love triangle just got kicked off. Then again, how much of it is love and how much is possessiveness? We shall see ;)**

 **Next up: Katrina's first night with Ichabod and Bella.**


	6. Chapter 6

"And this is my Trigger," Bella explained as she picked up the stuffed puppy from the sofa. "He's been waiting for me to come home from school."

The entire car ride home, as well as the past ten minutes since they'd been home, had been like one big presentation for Bella; a chance for her to do what she did best; _exaggerate_. She'd dragged Katrina all over the house, pointing out just about everything she could think of in regards to what was hers and how she'd either made or acquired it. The macaroni necklace had clearly been more confusing than not if he was going by Katrina's facial expressions alone. The idea that such a thing was considered art was lost on her.

"Trigger? That's an interesting name," Katrina said as she sat beside Bella and touched the puppy.

"Aunt Abbie bought him for me and, since I couldn't talk yet, she named him." Bella smiled proudly. "He's my favorite thing in the whole world."

As he stood behind the counter, attempting to give them some space, but staying close all the same, he watched as Katrina's shoulders tensed at the mention of Abbie.

Well, at least it was Bella who'd mentioned it this time. By this point, he was beginning to come to the conclusion that Katrina would smile at just about whatever Bella said. However, that didn't stop his lingering apprehension. Taking the initiative to add to this moment, he moved to the living room and placed a Caprisun on the table for Bella. "Why don't you go change clothes, sweetheart?"

Her innocent face began to fall. "But daddy-"

"Go on," he said a little firmer, hoping she'd obey without argument. "We'll be right here."

Shoulders slumped, she dragged herself off the sofa and began trudging away as she'd been told.

Perhaps, he should right this one down as a trial overcome. It was a rare thing for her to obey so quickly.

"And don't forget to put it in with the dirty laundry," he called.

As soon as she was out of earshot, he turned back to Katrina who was staring at the place Bella had disappeared with a small smile. There was contentment in her eyes he found comfort in, but it wasn't enough to quell the nagging feeling in his chest. He gestured to the dog, which was now in Katrina's hands. "She loves that ratty thing."

"So, I can see," she whispered as she twisted her finger around a loose string.

"Then, perhaps, you can also see it's because of who gave it to her more so than the animal itself that makes it so important to her."

Katrina pursed her lips as she looked up at him, her green eyes piercing. "I understand, Ichabod."

He regarded her for a long moment before nodding. "I hope so because this is mine and Bella's life, Katrina. You're the one who has to fit in here."

With a chuckle, she tossed the dog onto the cushions beside her. "Are you going to be this short and suspicious of me at all times?"

"Abbie is a part of Bella's life and that's something you're going to have to accept." He crossed his arms. "I won't have you attempting to tarnish their relationship in any way."

"And what you have to accept," she said as she pushed herself to her feet. "Is that you no longer have any power." Gold-green hardened into steel. "You let me out of my cage and even now I can feel my magic growing. I can do whatever I want, go wherever I want, and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

He swallowed the knot in his throat as she stepped close enough to touch him.

"So, I suppose it's a good thing that I want nothing more than to be Bella's mother while peacefully existing with you as her father." She tapped his nose as her expression lightened significantly. "Now, stop worrying so much. You're far to handsome to give yourself wrinkles."

Shifting his feet, he attempted to gather his wit. How could he both fear and desire her all at once? Dropping his eyes to avoid any of her manipulation, he found himself staring at her green sun dress, which only prompted him to absorb how well it fit her. He was a doomed man if he didn't gather himself and display a firm front.

"She's a little girl with a great deal of hope. I don't want to see her hurt."

A heavy sigh slipped from her as she reached up and twisted the sleeve of his shirt between her fingers. "No one's going to hurt our little girl, Ichabod."

Her skin brushed his, sending a quiet thrill through his body. Every nerve responded to her touch, leaving him more confused than ever. He held no shortage of physical desire for her and that terrified him more than anything. If there was one thing he'd learned from their encounter in the cell, it was that Katrina still effected him on the basest of levels.

"Stop touching me."

Gold-green flickered up as a small smile eased over her face. It was so easy for her to flit between emotions.

"You say that and yet you don't move away." She took a step closer to him, her hands now at his waist and the warmth of her breath on his chin. "The truth is, you don't know what you want." One of her hands slid up his chest. "But the desire is there, written all over your face." Her fingers danced just beneath the collar of his shirt as she cupped the back of his neck. "The not so secret yearning you still harbor for me."

"Daddy, I'm hungry!" Bella yelled as she came running down the hall in her fresh t-shirt and sweats, oblivious to the rising tensions between her parents. "Can we have taco's?"

Hastily pushing Katrina away from him, he turned to his daughter, forcing what he hoped was a pleasant smile onto his face.

"Bella, I don't think-"

She grabbed a now smiling Katrina's hand as she stopped in front of her. "Do you like taco's, mommy?"

Katrina squinted and glanced up at him before shrugging her shoulders. "Uhm, I'm not sure. I've never...Is it a food?"

Bella's eyes widened to the size of quarters. " _You've never had a taco!?_ "

Despite his still reeling mind, he chuckled at his daughter's astonishment and tapped her head before nodding to the kitchen. "Go wash your hands."

"Come on, mommy," Bella said, tugging Katrina behind her. "You, too."

As they both moved to the sink, giggling as they did so, he sighed.

"What have I gotten myself into?"

* * *

"Sweetheart, watch out, you're dropping it," he said as he pointed at the few pieces of lettuce now scattered over the floor.

From atop her special stool, Bella glanced down at the mess beneath her.

"Sorry, daddy," she said, showing all her teeth when she smiled at him.

Turning the burner to a lower setting, he playfully narrowed his eyes at her. "What am I going to do with you?"

Bella tapped her chin before her eyebrows jumped as if with a sudden realization. "Keep me?"

"Don't tempt me," he said as he continued stirring the meat.

With a giggle, Bella went back to tearing the lettuce.

"Your house is very nice," Katrina said, as she set down the knife she'd been using to slice tomatoes. "When did you leave the cabin?"

"Bella get the cheese and sour cream and set it on the table."

Dropping her chore, Bella placed her hands on her hips, her eyes narrowed. "Manners, daddy."

Oh, for the love of all that was holy!

"Please?" he drawled out, exasperation lacing his voice.

Obviously satisfied, she hoped off her stool and hurried to the refrigerator.

When he turned back around, he met Katrina's curious eyes with a shrug.

"After you told me about..." He dropped his gaze to the meat, not wishing to bring up the day he'd learned he was to be a father. "I managed to acquire a job at the museum due to the fiasco with the museum running off a few of the previous employees. It paid better than any other job I could've acquired at the time."

"That's fortunate."

Meeting her eyes again, he noticed her fidgeting with the edge of a napkin.

He knew what she was thinking. The night they'd solved the case at the museum had been the night they'd chosen to move forward with their lives together. It also stood a good gamble at being the night Bella was conceived.

"Done, daddy," Bella said as she ran up and grabbed Katrina's hand. "Come on, mommy. Sit by me."

Katrina smiled as she allowed Bella to lead her to the table.

Internally groaning at how much attention was going to Katrina, he scraped the meat onto a plate and brought it to the table.

"Don't touch it, alright?" He placed a plate in front of Bella. "It's hot."

While Bella bounced in her seat in anticipation as he fixed her taco, he glanced at Katrina to see her watching what he was doing intently, slight confusion lacing her features.

"Do you need help?"

Her eyes shot to his, the green wide and startled.

"Oh, I-" She shook her head. "No, I believe, I understand."

"How come you haven't eaten taco's before, mommy?" Bella bit into hers and mumbled, "Don't they have Taco Bell's where you were?"

"Bella," he warned before handing her a napkin to clean up the crumbs she was dropping.

She cut her eyes at him ashamedly. "Sorry."

Katrina smiled as she set a napkin in her lap and shifted to better face Bella.

"No, there weren't any..." She frowned as though chewing the words. "Taco Bell's."

"That's weird," Bella said with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Aren't you forgetting something, Bella?" he asked, an eyebrow raised.

Her green eyes swiveled to him. "I don't think so."

He nodded to her plate and held out a hand, hoping she would take the hint.

"Oh," she squealed, setting her taco down and taking his hand before reaching out for Katrina's. "We have to pray, mommy."

Katrina's eyes danced from Bella to his.

With a sigh, he held out his hand toward her and watched her eyes linger over the gesture for a moment before she accepted it. The touch of her skin to his once again left him reeling with a racing heart. If he hadn't already felt the sensation when she'd been locked away without magic, he might have thought she was casting some sort of spell over him.

"Thank you, Lord, for our taco's," Bella began, her little fingers squeezing his larger ones. "And our day and for mommy coming home. Amen."

Smiling at her quick prayer, he opened his eyes and found Bella already lifting her taco, an action he soon followed, while watching Katrina do the same, curiously wondering if she would like them.

The way her eyes widened at the first bite had both he and Bella chuckling.

"Do you like it, mommy?"

Katrina nodded and held a hand over her mouth as she chewed. "Yes, it's wonderful."

Evident relief settled over Bella. "Good, because taco's are my favorite."

He scooped up his extra lettuce and filled his taco, which was crumbling to pieces. Why did these things refuse to cooperate? "We eat taco's at least once a week."

"What's your favorite food?" Bella asked as she sat up on her knees to better lean over her taco.

Katrina, who seemed to be trying to figure out how to keep her taco together, glanced up at Bella. "Oh, I, uhm, I don't really have a favorite."

Before he'd thought better of himself, he heard the question tumbling form his lips. "You used to crave apples."

Her eyes flickered up at him, slight surprise shining in them.

Perhaps, he supposed, she'd forgotten his eidetic memory, or maybe she was just surprised he'd spoken his thoughts aloud. Either way, his utterance of something familiar and personal seemed to lighten her spirits considerably. It was as though he'd given her permission to acknowledge that they'd once been in love and in tune with the other's simple joys and preferences.

He wasn't sure if he was comforted by that or not.

"Yes." She turned back to Bella with a smile. "Apples."

Bella screwed up her nose. "Apples? Yucky!"

Katrina chuckled, her eyes shining as they danced over Bella. "I take it you're not fond of them?"

"No way!" Bella rolled her eyes. "But daddy makes me eat them."

He sighed, not wishing to delve into this repetitive argument. If they'd been over it once, they'd been over it a thousand times. "They're good for you."

"Madison doesn't like them either," Bella said as she tilted her head up, defiance all over her beautiful face. "And her daddy doesn't make her eat yucky apples."

"Well, Madison's daddy is a-" He paused and took a deep breath before smiling. "Madison isn't going to be as healthy as you."

Bella appeared dissatisfied with his answer as she took another bite of her taco.

"Who's Madison?" Katrina asked as she wiped her mouth. "Your friend?"

"My _best_ friend," Bella said as she finished off her taco. "I went to her birthday party last week and I was the _only_ one she wanted to spend the night with her."

Clearly amused, Katrina smiled. "Is that so?"

"Mhm, but I wasn't about to stay there."

"Why not?"

Bella shook her head. "Because she had a clown at her party and that thing freaked my skin out."

When Katrina only frowned, he explained, "Bella isn't fond of clowns. They make her skin crawl."

Understanding brought back Katrina's smile, one he hadn't thought could get any larger.

"He tried to give me a balloon, but I told him to take a hike cause my daddy told me to never accept anything from strangers and he was _way_ strange, like so strange he was the strangest thing I ever saw."

"You're being dramatic," he said as he reached for another taco.

"I wonder who she inherited that from?" Katrina asked with a grin.

He caught her amused expression and shook his head. "I haven't the faintest."

"Aunt Abbie says you're a trippy drama queen," Bella said matter of factly, her nose turned up at him. "And that you spit me out of your butt." She shrugged. "I don't know what that means, but it sounds gross."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm going to have to have a serious conversation with your Aunt Abbie the next time I see her."

"Whatever you say."

Taking in Bella's taco juice covered mouth, he pushed back his seat.

"Alright, young lady," he said as he picked up his and her plate. "Time for a bath."

"Can mommy do it?"

Meeting her hopeful eyes, he stared at her in surprise. "What?"

Bella shrugged, her small shoulders bobbing. "Mommy's a girl."

Eyes narrowed, he leaned close. "Every time Aunt Jenny tries to give you a bath, you throw a fit for me."

As if he wasn't understanding, Bella grabbed his face and said with a serious voice. "You're still my favorite, daddy."

He wasn't sure whether to cry or laugh.

Standing back up, he glanced at Katrina, who was watching them with a small smile.

If this was how it was to be, he wasn't so sure he was completely comfortable. Already, Katrina seemed to be quickly becoming Bella's center of attention.

"Alright, go on, then," he said, while pretending to pout. "I'll just clean up out here all alone."

Bella squealed as she jumped up and took Katrina's hand, not even pretending to care about his pitiful tone.

Over the next ten minutes, nothing but giggles floated down the hallway. As strange as it was, he found the sound to lighten his heart.

Though, he was still on edge with Katrina being here, he was truly thankful Bella was so happy. He supposed if it made her happy, then he couldn't be to put out that she appeared to enjoy Katrina's company so much. It was the first night after all. There was bound to be some measure of excitement involved in the meeting between mother and daughter.

His phone vibrated, drawing his attention. Upon picking it up, he found three new messages from Betsy. With a sigh, he leaned his elbows to the counter and propped his head in his hands.

He'd thought his life was done being complicated.

* * *

The closer bedtime had drawn, the more nervous he'd become as he only had two beds in his house. The third room was an office with which he now supposed he was going to have to do something else.

When he rounded the door frame into Bella's room, he found Katrina sitting on the bed's edge, speaking quietly with her.

"You don't have to be afraid," she said softly as she smoothed the blankets over Bella. "Nothing bad will happen."

"But it always does," Bella answered, Trigger clutched tightly in her arms. "I'm scared."

Katrina ran her fingers through Bella's hair. "Magic isn't bad, Bella. It's a gift. Watch."

He followed Bella's gaze as she looked up at the ceiling.

The glow in the dark stars attached to the ceiling began to glow brighter before they began changing colors as they shifted around one another.

Slightly riveted, he watched as they spelled out Bella's name before shifting into other various shapes.

"How are you doing that?" Bella asked as she sat up, her eyes fixated on the ceiling. "In your head?"

Katrina laughed as she twirled her fingers. "It's magic."

As he moved further into the room, Bella caught his eyes. "Daddy, did you see?"

Taking a seat across from Katrina, he nodded along with her excitement and said, "I did."

"It was so cool," Bella said, her eyes returning to the ceiling. "Can I do that, too?"

"One day," Katrina answered as she stared at Bella. "With practice."

"Cool," Bella giggled.

"Alright, little miss," he said, nodding to her pillow. "You've got school tomorrow."

She rolled her eyes as she flopped back against the bed. "I hate school."

"I know," he said, pulling the covers over her disgruntled little body.

As she got situated, a smile crept over her face; one that piqued his curiosity.

"What are you grinning at?" he asked with a chuckle. "I thought you were upset."

"I have a mommy and a daddy."

Well, if that didn't make his heart falter... Eyes falling to Trigger, he swallowed against the knot lodged in his throat. There was nothing he feared more than hurting his child through his own choices.

"You're gonna stay, aren't you, mommy?"

Unable to help himself, he glanced up at Katrina, who was nodding.

"I'll never leave you again, Bella." She leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "I promise."

"Good."

Clearing his throat, he stood and attempted to regain his composure.

"Alright," he whispered as he kissed her forehead. "Sleep well, sweetheart."

"I love you, daddy." She looked at Katrina and reached up to touch her hair, her small fingers twisting the long, red stands. "I love you, too, mommy."

Katrina nodded as she took Bella's hand in her own and pressed a kiss to it. "I love you more than there are stars in the sky."

Bella's eyes widened. "That's what daddy says."

Another smile crept over Katrina's face as she softly whispered, "I know."

"Go to sleep," he said as he reached over and tapped her bedside lamp, leaving the room with the glow of the night lights placed in every corner of the room.

Bella had a slight fear of the dark; one that had developed very early on and seemed to be going nowhere.

When Katrina walked past him, he asked, "Do you want me to leave it open?"

Bella's head popped up as she answered, "Please."

Smiling, he turned down the hallway and found Katrina fidgeting in the kitchen as she wiped at tears on her cheeks. It left him feeling unsettled, but he chose to be reassuring anyway. At least, she still had the ability to be moved by the emotions of others.

"She's really happy you're here."

She nodded and twisted her fingers against her stomach. "She's beautiful."

"She is," he whispered as he crossed his arms. "But how could she not be? We made her."

Katrina chuckled and leaned against the counter as she held his gaze. "We did."

Her focused gaze left him breathless and he was forced to tear his eyes from hers just to find some air. Getting caught up in Katrina's eyes was the last thing he needed to do. So, clearing his throat, he nodded down the hallway and began moving toward his bedroom.

"You can sleep here." He flipped the switch on and walked across the room, where he pushed open the bathroom door. "You'll have your own bathroom and shower. There're towels in the closet and a spare toothbrush below the sink."

When he turned around, he found her glancing around the room, her eyes flickering over the various pictures. "I hope this doesn't make Ms. Ross angry."

"Ms.-" Caught off guard, he cleared his throat again and frowned. "What makes you think-"

"The eyes in my head," she said, cutting him off as she turned back to him with a hard to decipher expression. "And the fact that I can read you better than anyone."

Shifting his feet, he avoided her gaze, feeling like he'd done something wrong. "Bella doesn't know anything about that and I'd like to keep it that way."

As a means of distraction, he moved to his dresser and began rifling through his drawers.

"You mean, you're keeping a secret?"

The flippant way she said it managed to get right under his skin.

"Damn it, Katrina," he whispered as he pulled out a shirt and his smallest pair of pajama bottoms. "Do you always have to be so-"

He spun to find her right behind him, invading his personal space in ways that had his heart pounding.

"Yes?"

The smirk on her face was all too knowing, forcing him to slip from between her and the dresser to gain some air.

"I don't want to bring anyone into Bella's life who might leave and hurt her." He sighed and handed her the clothes. "I'd think you would be appreciative."

"Of what?" she asked softly. "The fact that you have a secret lover instead of a public one? I don't care what you do in your private life, Ichabod." She nodded to the door. "Like I said before, my only concern is Bella."

Unsure of how to respond, and really not even sure he believed her due to the way she kept touching him, he shifted his feet again and chose to change the subject. "We'll get your other things as soon as we can."

"This is fine," she replied, setting the clothes on the bed. "And you don't have to worry about Bella tonight."

"I don't?"

"I'm in tune with her." She turned back to him. "If she begins to become restless, I'll know."

"That's good to know," he said with a nod. "But I'll likely still be worried."

She tilted her head. "As is your right."

"Well, I uhm." He began backing toward the door. "Goodnight."

"Leaving so soon?" She slipped one of her straps off her shoulder. "I wouldn't be opposed to you remaining here."

There was a twitch in an area he was desperate to ignore as she trailed her fingers over her collarbone to reach for the other strap.

"I-"

His mouth had gone completely dry. Everything was screaming for him to go to her; to touch and taste her the way he once had. How long had it been again? Nearly six years? And then before that, apart from a few passionate and all too pleasurable nights, over two centuries had gone by without her warmth.

As her dress hitched down ever so slightly, she said, "It's been so long since you last touched me."

She smiled and let the dress slip down her body where it landed in a puddle around her feet.

Knees nearly buckling, he stood stock still as she closed the distance between them, her brazenly exposed breasts drawing his gaze.

"I miss your hands on my skin."

"I- we-..." He shook his head as he fumbled for words; any words. "No."

"No?" she raised a teasing eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

Tearing his eyes from her all too alluring form, he locked his gaze on the ground. "Even if I wanted to, which I don't, I'm involved with Betsy."

"Are you fucking her?"

The bold and vulgar language she had never before used had his head jerking back up. "What?"

"You must be if you're refusing me." She tilted her head, her calculating eyes studying him. "The possessiveness and desire was clear on her part, but I saw no such thing from you. I know how much you like being inside me, Ichabod. Do you think you'll ever find anyone you desire more than me?"

Stuttering over his words, he narrowed his eyes. "I thought you didn't care what I did in my personal life."

Coming to a stop just before him, Katrina smiled. "Just because I feel a certain way doesn't mean I want someone else touching the things that are mine."

Running a hand through his hair, he shook his head. "Please, stop trying to confuse me, Katrina. I want this to work."

"As do I," she whispered as she ran her hand over his chest. "And it will."

Heart thumping hard, he stared into her eyes. "I thought you hated me. I don't understand why you're acting this way."

"Surely, you know that love isn't required to make the act feel good?" She slipped her fingers under his shirt, trailing them across his skin, causing goose bumps to form in their wake. "Pleasurable?"

Her breath was now washing over his face.

"And you would know that, how?" He caught her wrist in his hand and jerked it back. "Is that another secret you've kept? Perhaps, you lied about how far you took your role as Abraham's captive."

Her body tensed as a frown came over her face; a seemingly genuine hurt clear in her eyes.

"You've been my only, Ichabod."

Oh, how he wanted to believe that. He'd give just about anything to know it for sure.

Breathing now more shallow, he became aware of the significant change that shifted between them. It was nearly tangible.

His fingers around her wrist loosened as he became completely compliant to her will. It wouldn't be the worst thing, would it? It was familiar; something they'd had no qualms about enjoying in their previous life. If anything, they'd ravaged each other every chance they'd had.

Her warm breath ghosted over his neck as she leaned in, her lips gently brushing his skin. The feeling had his hands on her hips before he could think better of himself, her soft flesh hot to the touch.

"Katrina..." he moaned, his cock suddenly feeling too restricted in his trousers.

Her hands were under his shirt again, caressing his skin. It was nothing compared to her lips as she burned a trail of kisses along his jaw, moving up and toward his mouth.

"Tell me you're mine," she whispered, her voice low and tempting. "That you miss me."

The words were on the tip of his tongue, but they never met air as his phone's ring had him jerking back as though scalded.

Fumbling to pull it from his pocket, he nearly dropped it when he saw Betsy's name plastered across his screen. If that wasn't a wakeup call, he wasn't sure what was.

Running a trembling hand through his hair, he shook his head. What was wrong with him? What happened to the firm front he'd been attempting to maintain? He knew what she was; what she'd done. How could he possible allow this?

"I do desire you," he whispered as he turned to face her. "You're beautiful, the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, and I'd have to be blind, deaf, and dumb not to want you and, even then, it would be difficult." Her eyes followed him, watchful and calm. "I've welcomed you into my home, Katrina, despite all my reservations and doubts, and I want you to find happiness here with Bella, but that's the extent of what I want from you. I'd appreciate it if you respected that."

Not waiting for a response, and honestly not sure he could handle one, he pulled the door with him as he stepped out. "Goodnight, Katrina."

With a heavy sigh, he ran a hand down his face and moved toward the couch where he'd already spread himself a blanket.

As he settled down, he attempted to find a comfortable position and eventually found himself staring at the ceiling. What a day this had been. He only hoped it wasn't a day he'd come to regret. With Katrina out and about, his life and everyone in it was bound to shift in some fashion or another whether he wanted it or not.

"Please, let her be happy."

However, for the life of him, he couldn't determine to which of the girl's in his house he was referring.

* * *

 **Next up: A morning with the Crane's. Abbie finds out.**


	7. Chapter 7

**So, a reviewer asked what the phrase, "Must have spit me out of your butt means" from the last chapter. Well, I'm from the South and we have a lot of funny and weird phrases. This one means that Bella is so much like her dad that he might as well have spit her out of his butt. It's kinda a weird way of saying he might as well have cloned her lol. Sorry, I confused ya, darling ;)**

 **Anyway, onto Chapter 7...**

* * *

The scent of coffee wafted into his senses as he shifted onto his side, attempting to blot out the light which was effectively interrupting his sleep. However, the ache in his back as he did so, prompted him to crack his eyes open. To his befuddlement, the sight before him was not the one of his bedroom, but that of his living room. The coffee table, littered with Barbie dolls and a few books, were mere inches from his face, causing him to squint through heavy eyes.

That is, until the sounds of giggles had him lifting his head to glance into the kitchen. There, he found Bella, perched on her special stool as she pointed at the toaster, which Katrina was pulling out what looked like eggo waffles.

With that sight, the previous day's events came flooding back to him, causing him to fall back against the sofa and bring his hands to his face. It could have all been a dream. Perhaps, he was still dreaming and this was all some nightmare from which he'd yet to awaken. However, another loud giggle from Bella had him pushing himself up to find them merrily whispering amongst themselves.

How many times had he imagined this? The two of them making breakfast as he prepared for work or whatever else he might have been doing that day. Far too many times to count.

Groaning as he pushed himself up, he arched his back in the hopes of ridding himself of the ache in it. Too many more nights of this would not do.

"Daddy, you're awake!"

He perked up just in time to catch Bella as she all but flew into his lap, her smile contagious.

Laughing at her exuberance this early in the morning, which was a rarity for sure, he said, "What's gotten into you, little miss? I'm usually the one dragging you out of bed."

She grinned and pointed toward the kitchen, the energy being exuded from her small form practically tangible. "Mommy and I made breakfast."

"Did you, now?" He stood, lifting her in his arms, and walked over to the snack bar where the eggo's sat in a neat pile on a plate. "Well, look at that."

About that time, the toaster gave life to another waffle, causing Bella to giggle as it popped up. "I taught mommy how to toast." Bella looked at him with a disapproving expression. "She didn't know how. How come you never taught her?"

Lifting an eyebrow at the amount of accusation leveled at him from a four year old, he set her on the bar stool and shrugged his shoulders. "I wasn't very adept at eggo making back then, either."

Unfortunately, what he needed in this moment was perched on the counter directly behind the person he wished to avoid. A groan on the tip of his tongue, he walked around the island to grab a coffee cup and take up a stance next to Katrina as he poured himself a helping.

As his shoulder brushed hers, he cut his eyes and took in the way his shirt and bottoms hung off her, yet making her no less attractive. _Of course_ , his own clothing on her made him lust for her all the more. Why wouldn't it? The world had obviously decided to make his life a living hell from this point forward by putting the most beautiful woman he'd ever beheld directly within his reach. For the briefest of moments, he forgot he was doing his best not to touch her.

"Did you sleep well?"

So caught up in his lust, he hadn't noticed her staring directly at him with no lack of acute awareness as to his thoughts. Shifting uncomfortably, he cleared his throat and answered, "Yes."

Her green eyes lingered on him for a moment before she glanced over at the sofa. "I can't imagine that was too comfortable for you." She smiled, a slight glint in her gaze. "You should have stayed with me."

With all the smoothness of someone two hundred and... however many years old he was at this point and mightily lacking in gracefulness, he abruptly jerked and knocked over his cup of coffee.

"Shit," he whispered as the scalding hot liquid went in every direction, spreading over the counter as well as pouring over the edge and splattering against the floor.

Katrina jumped back, using his arm as balance while her bare feet evaded the hot mess.

"Did it get on you?" he asked in a panicked tone, his fingers wrapping around her wrist and pulling her away so he could examine her. "Did I burn you?"

"No, I'm fine," she answered, her gaze still on the liquid.

Tearing his eyes from her, he quickly grabbed a dishtowel and threw it on the floor so he could begin mopping up the mess before it spread any further.

"I'm so sorry," he mumbled as he placed his foot on the towel and began pushing it through the coffee.

Her hand rested against his back as she produced another towel to wipe the counter. "Ichabod, it's fine."

As he kicked his towel away, he laid his hand over hers and paused her cleaning. "Please, let me."

Gold-green eyes lifted to his with an accompanying smile. "Are you worrying? What did I tell you about your face?"

Said face dissolving into one of annoyance, he rolled his eyes. Would she never cease in her attempts to get under his skin?

"I'm getting hungry over here."

The impatience in Bella's voice had him turning to find her chin propped on her fists with a rather unimpressed expression on her face. "You're getting more and more cantankerous every day."

"I can't imagine where she acquired that from," Katrina said as she chuckled and sat the last of the waffles on the snack bar in front of Bella.

Completely offended, he said, "I am _not_ impatient."

"Says the man who couldn't wait ten minutes for me to get ready whenever we went somewhere."

"Because it was never ten minutes," he protested in exasperation. "It's a wonder we ever made it anywhere at all with all the layers and hair and whatever else you had to do for the most simple of outings."

Bella raised her hand, drawing both their gazes. "Can we argue later, please? I'm _starving_."

If he survived the women in his life, he felt he would deserve all the crowns in heaven available. Shaking his head, he grabbed the syrup from the pantry and set it in front of Bella, who swiftly scooped it up and began soaking her waffles.

Katrina eased onto the stool next to her and raised an eyebrow at the oozing mess Bella had just made. "You're going to drown."

Bella giggled and pushed the syrup across the counter, leaving a sticky streak in her wake. "Now, you."

As the two of them chuckled over the sticky mess they were creating, he glanced at the clock. "I'm going to take a shower." He pointed at Bella with a warning finger. "You, behave."

"I'm always precious, daddy."

He rolled his eyes as he started for his bedroom. "Dear Lord."

After shutting the door, he noticed the bed perfectly made, hardly bearing the signs that anyone had slept in it at all. Well, at least she was doing that.

When he finally managed to get in the shower, he nearly buckled under how amazing the hot water felt against his back. If there was one thing he knew he'd miss if ever returned to his own century, it was hot showers. Yes, baths were wonderful and he wasn't going to pretend like he'd never taken enjoyment out of them when it came to soaking the aches from his joints. The few times he'd had the pleasure of his wife's company while in a bath were at the top of his list of unforgettable moments. Of course, that thought was accompanied by the wonder of how it would feel to be joined in the shower.

"God help me," he whispered as he leaned his head against his arm.

For five years, he'd been fine. Fantasies had come and gone. The beautiful women of this century had given him plenty of ideas. Even Betsy had brought him over the edge and into oblivion a number of times, now. However, none of it had ever had him in the state he now found himself. The particular itch he had was one he knew could only be sated from one individual; one with gold-green eyes that could still his heart quicker than a blink.

Running his fingers through his hair, he shut the shower off and stepped out. For the life of him, he wondered how he was going to survive Katrina. Twenty-four hours had yet to pass and he was already caught in her spell.

After brushing his teeth, he ran his comb through his hair and sighed. The man in the mirror seemed to be an altogether different person than the one he'd looked upon not a whole week before. How quickly life could change.

Knowing he had to get Bella moving, he reentered his bedroom and moved to his closet where he began shoving hangers over so he could pull out a suit for the day. Blue was Bella's favorite as she said it made his eyes look like they were popping out of his head. He wasn't sure if she'd come up with that one on her own or if Abbie had encouraged it, but it was what she stuck with and he tended to lean toward the color on most days.

Setting it all on his bed, he sat down to put his watch on only to get caught up in the smell wafting from it.

For God's sake, his bed already smelled like her. How was he ever going to return to sleeping in it without exploding on the spot? She was everywhere.

Groaning, he rose and dressed before dragging his feet to the door where he took a deep breath before opening it. However, to his surprise, he found the two of them now folding his blankets together in the middle of the living room floor.

"This way?"

Bella lifted the end of the blanket and held it up.

"Yes, you want to match the corners so it's all even." Katrina showed her by connecting her end with Bella's. "See?"

"You're smart like daddy," Bella said with a grin as she picked up his pillow and laid it on top of the blanket. "He knows everything."

"Does he?" Katrina chuckled. "Well, I taught him everything he knows."

"Bella, you need to go get ready for school." He set his briefcase on the counter. "I washed your jumper."

"Finally!" she exclaimed as she threw her hands up and spun toward Katrina. "I have to tell him two hundred times."

Lifting his eyebrow, he caught her around her waist as she tried to scurry past him. "You little storyteller."

"Nah uh," she protested while wiggling in his arms. "You forget."

Shaking his head, he dropped her onto the couch next to Katrina and looked her square in the eyes. "You. Clothes. Now."

She rolled her eyes before weaseling past him and darting for her room, giggles following her all the way.

"She's so full of energy," Katrina said as she stared after Bella. "How do you keep up with her?"

Taking a seat in the recliner, he pulled out his phone and responded, "I'm not sure I do. Some days, I'm not sure whether I'm coming or going."

Her soft laughter drew his gaze up to find her staring at her hands with the most contented smile he'd seen on her face in ages. She looked so happy; so comfortable. When was the last time he'd seen her smile like that in regards to something he'd said? Or even the last time he'd seen her look so at ease while in his presence? Granted, it was mostly Bella who had made her that way, but still...

"I, uhm," he reached into his pocket for his keys and slid off the house key. "This is to the front door." As he handed it to her, he explained, "If you go into town, there's a place on Main Street that can duplicate it." He, then, pulled out his wallet and produced a one hundred dollar bill. "It shouldn't be too much. So, just use the rest for whatever you think you might need until we can get your things."

When she only stared at the money, he asked, "Is something wrong?"

Her eyes darted from the money to him. "No, I just... what are you doing?"

Brow knitting, he said, "I don't understand. You need a key to the house."

"It's not just the key." She shrugged her shoulders as her eyes fell again. "You're being extremely kind to me."

"As opposed to being cruel to you in front of our child?"

"No, it's just... after last night, I thought you might be angry with me. I-" She lifted her eyes and tilted her head with a small grin. "I wasn't exactly agreeable."

Is that what they were going to call her disrobing before him and offering up her body? Alright, then.

"Katrina, last night... was new for us." He ran a hand through his hair as he searched for the right words. "I'm trying to make this work for Bella. She's so happy you're here and if we can live here together for her, for at least a time, I think the least we can do is be cordial and considerate of one another. I know it might be difficult sometimes with the way we feel in regards to one another, but... if it makes her happy, I'm willing to do whatever it takes."

The way she was worrying her bottom lip between her teeth gave him pause.

"Besides, last night wasn't so awful." He grinned. "The view was memorable."

Green eyes lifted to his with a radiating glint. "Hmm."

Chuckling, he set the money on the table and continued, "It might be difficult, but I think we can make this work. All I ask is that you put Bella first and discuss everything that might affect her with me at all times."

A smile creased her face as she looked down the hallway. "She's my world."

"Mine, too." He nodded to the money. "Please, take it. It's really no different than what I've been doing over the years. The only difference is you'll be picking it out instead of me which will be a great relief."

"Thank you." She tilted her head toward the bedroom. "I'll go change."

"Alright," he whispered as she stood and moved toward the bedroom.

Once the door was closed, he dropped his head to his hands. The way she shifted between grateful, angry, seductive, and gloating was leaving his mind spinning. This never ending uncertainty of how she felt about him was about to drive him mad.

"I'm ready!" Bella called as she came skipping down the hallway. "Who's taking me to school?"

"How about me?" Abbie asked with a bright smile as she closed the door behind her. "How does that sound?"

"Aunt Abbie!" Bella yelled as she bolted and threw her arms around Abbie's legs. "You've been gone forever, silly."

"No, I haven't," Abbie chuckled as she knelt to hug Bella. "I saw you last week."

Bella pulled back with wide eyes. "That's forever ago."

As the two of them traded a few words, he stood, heart pounding in his chest. What she was doing here was lost on him as it was rare for her to have time off to come this late in the morning. Had Jenny told her? Was she here to chastise him for his hasty decision? The thought nearly paralyzed him.

"What, uh, what are you doing here?" he asked as he moved around the couch and nervously glanced toward his bedroom. "I thought you'd be working."

Abbie took Bella's hand and twirled her. "I'm going in later. I had a late night."

"Oh?" He ran his hand along the back of his neck. "That's... nice."

Brown eyes danced over him as her brow drew tight. "What's wrong with you?"

"Me?" He ran his hands down his shirt. "Nothing."

This was going to be a painful bullet to bite. Too bad he couldn't avoid it.

With nothing left to do but deal with his first obstacle, he settled his gaze on Bella. "Sweetheart, why don't you get your backpack so we can get going and I can talk to your Aunt?"

"What about mommy?"

The innocent question set his pulse to racing.

"Mommy?" Abbie frowned as she looked from Bella to him then back to Bella. "What are you talking about, munchkin?"

"She's just-"

"My mommy came home," Bella beamed, not a trace of hesitation in her voice.

It was almost as if she was bragging over her newest birthday present; one she just knew would make everyone else jealous. If only she knew that jealousy was the last thing she'd just caused.

Abbie's frown deepened as her eyes found him. "What is she-"

The way her words died off and her eyes stilled on something behind him spoke to his doomed future. He briefly wondered if his death would come swiftly, or if it would be an agonizing and torturously paced event. From the look on Abbie's face, the only thing he was sure of was that his death was certainly going to happen either way.

Slowly looking over his shoulder, he found Katrina standing just outside his bedroom door with a surprised expression on her face, granted it wasn't nearly as surprised as his friend's.

"What the hell?" Abbie whispered as she moved around Bella, her hand now resting on her firearm.

"I can explain," he began, holding up his hands in the hopes that he could keep this conversation peaceful.

Abbie shot him a dangerous look. "Explain? Really? You can explain this?"

Oh God. Her voice had reached that certain pitch that spoke volumes as to the amount of shit he was in.

"Bella needs her," he said, almost pleadingly.

Abbie's face hardened as her finger lifted. "Don't you dare use Bella as an excuse. You've been wanting this since the moment we put her down there."

The ability to breathe was evading him. When had it become so hot in here? It was practically suffocating.

"Abbie-"

" _Don't_!" Abbie warned as her gaze remained fixed on Katrina. "I swear, Crane, if this isn't some joke, I'm going to shoot you, myself."

With a heavy sigh, he said, "This wasn't an easy decision to make, but it was one that had to be made."

"I'm sorry, it had to be made?" Abbie stared at him as though he'd lost his mind. "She'll take Bella from you and then what? Are you still going to believe _this_ was the solution?"

"I won't take her," Katrina said, her voice even. "I gave him my word."

"Your word?" Abbie laughed before meeting his eyes. "Are you freaking kidding me!?"

"Aunt Abbie, what's wrong?"

Bella looked between them all, her eyes wide and worried as she held Abbie's hand.

"Bels, come here," Abbie said as she pulled Bella into her arms and turned back to him. "Crane, what were you thinking?"

Running a hand down the back of his neck, he hung his head. "I had to-"

"She has to go back."

He felt Katrina bristle beside him, prompting him to hold a hand out in front of her to stop her from moving forward any further. The last thing he needed was a physical confrontation in front of his daughter; especially from the two women she loved more than anyone else.

"Daddy?" Bella whispered. "Mommy's not leaving, is she?"

Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward and lifted Bella from Abbie before turning to set her down. "Why don't you let your mother fix your hair? I bet she'd love to do that for you."

He glanced up at Katrina, who was staring at Abbie with a far too calm expression. If he didn't diffuse this situation quickly, it was only going to escalate.

"Katrina?" he called, drawing her eyes to his. "You can do that, right?"

"Of course," she whispered, her features softening as she bent to pick up Bella. "I'd love to."

As the two of them moved down the hallway, he turned to Abbie who was positively fuming. He couldn't blame her. If anyone else had done this, he'd have reacted the same way, if not worse.

"Have you lost your mind?" She thrust her finger toward the hall. "She's a murderer."

Running a hand through his hair, he replied, "She's never murdered anyone and, besides that, Katrina is the only one who can properly help Bella."

Abbie crossed her arms and fixed him with a stern look. "Is that what she told you?"

"No, it's what I know."

"You're full of it, Crane," she said as she began pacing. "What happened to binding Bella's magic? We had a plan."

Unsure of how to summon the confidence he was sorely lacking, he began fidgeting with the ring on his finger. "I wanted to make sure nothing went wrong with it. That's why I sought her out, but Katrina said it's a painful process, one she refused to help us perform."

"Katrina said?" Abbie shook her head. "Ichabod, come on, Katrina was going to say whatever it took to get out of that cell."

It wasn't as if he hadn't considered that Katrina could be playing upon his fears and love, but he found it difficult to believe she'd lie about something in regards to Bella.

"You're saying you think she lied?"

"Of course, she did!" Abbie gestured to the hallway. "She's had five years to think about this. She knew Bella would acquire powers one day and she knew you would come to her."

Swallowing the build of saliva in his throat, he denied, "There's no way she could have known I wouldn't find another way."

"Crane, listen to me." Abbie stepped closer to him. "It was her only leverage, her only hope of gaining freedom, and you played right into it. That's exactly why I didn't want you alone with her. She twists everything and you've always wanted so badly to believe her."

His breathing began to deepen. No, Katrina wouldn't use Bella. "If there's one person in the world she wouldn't hurt, it's Bella."

"And?" Abbie asked as though the answer was obvious. "What's to stop her from telling Bella you died and then taking her away? She swore to kill us both. Do you really think that after she's spent all that time locked away, that she's just going to forget everything? Just let it go?"

After everything that had happened, he wasn't sure what he thought. This entire situation was unusual at best. There was little that would surprise him at this point.

"Abbie," he whispered, so tired of the weight of this entire situation. "Whether I was right or wrong about it, there's little that can be done now either way." He pointed to the room. "She's out and her magic is intact. Even if I wanted to put her back, you and I both know we can't. It was a mere stroke of luck we managed to get her down there in the first place."

Jaw clenched, Abbie brought a hand to press to her forehead as she whispered, "You may be content with this, but I'm not. I love that little girl, Crane, and having Katrina here is going to do nothing but hurt her in the end. Is she really the kind of mother you think Bella deserves?"

There seemed to be a perpetual knot lodged in his throat. "You haven't seen them together. They're so happy."

"And you, too, right?" she asked, her eyebrow lifting. "Don't pretend like this is all for Bella. Since the moment you woke up in that cave, the only thing you wanted was Katrina. Nearly everything we did during that first year was somehow connected to you trying to reunite with her. Every time you lost your temper, every time you lost your control, was all linked to her." Abbie stepped closer to him and looked him straight in the eye. "She's your weakness, Crane, and she's going to exploit that."

Eyes falling to the floor, he brought a hand up and rubbed them.

"Come on, Bella," Abbie yelled down the hallway. "You're gonna be late."

"What do you intend to do, Abbie?" he softly whispered.

"I'm gonna find a way to deal with her magic when the time comes."

He lifted his head, his last bit of resolve crumbling. " _If_ the time comes."

"No," she said, meeting him eye to eye. " _When_."

Footsteps quickly running down the hallway had him turning to see Bella bouncing toward them, her hair now affixed in a bun atop her head.

"I'm ready." She stopped in front of him. "Do you like my hair, daddy?"

Releasing a sigh though his nose, he knelt in front of her. "I love it."

"Good," she said with a giggle. "I want mommy to do my hair all the time."

"All the time?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Are you saying you don't like the way I fix your hair, young lady?"

Bella laid a hand to his shoulder in mock sympathy. "Don't be sad, daddy. Mommy's just better at it than you."

Katrina chuckled and knelt to kiss Bella on the cheek as he made a disgruntled sound.

"Alright, munchkin," Abbie said, laying a hand to her arm and taking her backpack. "Let's go."

Bella rolled her eyes and began trudging toward the door. "I hate going to school."

When Bella was across the room, Abbie glanced between them and shook her head. "Get your house in order, Crane."

With that, she turned and followed Bella out the door. The moment it shut, he sighed and ran both his hands down his face.

"Was that us all living in harmony?"

Rolling his eyes, he turned to Katrina, who was standing with her arms tucked tightly under her breasts and a cross expression on her face. She literally looked like she was breathing fire.

"She was surprised. You can hardly blame her. After all, you did try to kill her the last time you were out."

"And what if she doesn't let it go?" She fixed him with a questioning gaze. "I can control myself and I will. Can the same be said for her?"

Shaking his head, he walked past her and picked up his briefcase. "She asked the same thing about you."

"Ichabod-"

"No one's going to bother you, Katrina." He paused and turned to her. "As you said before, we couldn't if we tried."

When her eyes fell to her shoes, he couldn't help but think that all the happiness he'd earlier seen was now gone.

"Katrina," he whispered as he reached out and lifted her chin. "Not even a day has passed and she loves you so much already."

Tears were collecting in her eyes. "All I want is to be with her."

"Then, be with her," he softly replied as he wiped his thumb across her cheek. "Just be with her, Katrina."

* * *

"Oh, hello, Mr. Crane," Gloria said as she stood from her desk, smoothing out her dress as she did so. "How's our Bella doing?"

He nodded to his secretary with a smile. "Much better now, thank you."

Gloria held her hand to her heart. "That's such a relief. I was so worried for the poor thing."

"Your concerns are greatly appreciated. Bella will be glad to hear of them."

Gloria shifted rather uncomfortably before asking, "Mr. Crane, I heard a rumor."

He raised an eyebrow and turned toward her more fully. "A rumor?"

"Well, less a rumor and more so a straightforward passing of knowledge from my daughter."

Feeling he knew where this was going, he sighed, "Of course, Lauren is good friend's with Betsy."

With barely a blink to obstruct her gaze, Gloria stared at him. "Is it true?"

A tired chuckle slipped between his lips as he nodded. "Yes, Bella's mother is, at present, residing with us."

To her credit, Gloria didn't pry any further.

"Well, that's wonderful." She handed him his morning coffee. "I'm sure Bella is pleased."

"Over the moon is more like it," he replied. "I only hope I'm doing the right thing by allowing her in so quickly."

"I'm sure you are." Gloria patted his arm. "I know how cautious you are with Bella and if you've let..."

"Katrina."

Gloria smiled. "Katrina. If you've let Katrina in so quickly then it's only because you're certain she can only improve upon Bella's life."

He shook his head. "It's not Bella for which life I'm concerned."

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow. "I heard she was stunning."

He smiled and began walking toward his office. "Please hold my calls until I say otherwise."

As he rounded his desk and slumped down into his chair, he loosened his tie and all but allowed his head to fall into his hands. The notion that it was only eight-thirty completely floored him. How had so much already occurred this early in the morning? To add insult to injury, it seemed that whatever it was he was getting himself into with Katrina was going to be something that played out with onlookers.

All in all, he was going to have to speak with Betsy at more length soon, or he feared she might begin to get the wrong idea. The only problem was that he wasn't sure how to explain Katrina. Her sudden appearance after hardly any mention was bound to raise a few eyebrows. How was he supposed to talk her up as a good mother when she had an unexplainable absence? He was now stuck with having to come up with something reasonable while still conveying how much she loved Bella and wanted to be with her.

Then, there was the fact that she was technically living with him. He couldn't imagine that was something Betsy was going to understand. He wasn't even sure that was something _he_ understood. What other choice did he really have, though? He couldn't afford to buy her a house and she couldn't really get a job as she technically didn't exist and, even more, was still unaccustomed to the modern world.

In all honesty, with how little she'd been able to venture out in public those few months after Purgatory, she likely would know next to nothing about this century they now called home.

Groaning, he lifted his head and opened his laptop in the hopes that he could get some work done.

However, he highly doubted his mind would be focused on anything other than the two sets of gold-green eyes that now controlled his thoughts.

* * *

 **Grocery shopping with a Kindergartener. More anxiety. A less than comfortable evening with the Crane's.**


	8. Chapter 8

Dropping a package of turkey in his buggy, he moved a few feet further up the aisle to inspect the cheese.

The overabundance of choice when it came to the time he now called home was something to which he'd finally become accustomed. No matter the item he was wanting, there was always more than one choice; something that had befuddled him quite a bit at first as such a luxury had never been known in the past. This fact did little to help his unsureness when it came to which kind of cheese Katrina would prefer. Truthfully, why did he care? It wasn't as though she'd cared enough to remain in his life throughout the years for him to be able to learn such things. With a tinge of resentment in mind, he sighed and reached for the kind he was sure Bella would like. Katrina could eat what they ate, or she could go hungry. At least, that's what he told himself.

"Daddy!"

Spinning on his heel, he found Bella running down the bread aisle, her bun, having descended into a ponytail for the day, bouncing behind her.

"Slow down," he warned as she nearly bumped into an elderly man coming around the corner.

Bella shot a bashful look at the man, who only chuckled, before darting the remaining distance to him.

"I got the bread!" she said, proudly presenting him with the loaf.

"Fantastic." He pointed at the seat in the buggy. "Just set it there and-"

"String cheese!" she squealed as she slipped around him, her focus now on the display of cheeses.

"Bella-"

There was always something she just had to have and, being a father of rather weak willpower when it came to refusal, she tended to get it. He wasn't proud of the fact, but it was a fact nonetheless.

"Daddy, please," she pled as she cast him those innocent eyes. "I behaved almost all day."

Of course. Their deal. Whenever she went without incident for a day, she got a little something in return; positive reinforcement or whatever that book had told him. Though, he was sure it had also said something about not giving a reward every time due to her possibly forming the idea that she would think she deserved such a thing every time she did something good for the rest of her life.

"Almost isn't what we're striving for, Bella."

She fisted her shirt between her fingers as she twisted in her shoes, her eyes now avoidant. "But that wasn't my fault. Madison was talking to me. I couldn't be rude and not listen to her. She's my best friend!"

"Your teacher was speaking," he countered. "You were being rude to her."

When her eyes made to roll, he raised an eyebrow, ceasing the action in its tracks. Instead, she gave him a sulky look.

"I learned better," she groaned. "I got a frowny face for the day. It think that was a good lesson."

What a little worm, he thought as he stared at her. More than ever, he was seeing Katrina in her every movement. Those van Tassel eyes were the best manipulators that had ever been created. Not to mention, she never let anything go and would surely argue him into his grave. It appeared God did have a sense of humor. He was now raising his stubborn wife.

"And you think you deserve a reward for a frowny face?"

"It's food, daddy." She pointed in the direction of the children's department, exasperation lacing her features. "Not a toy."

When her eyes came back to him, a satisfied look in her green orbs, his own eyes gave way to a roll.

"Pick your cheese." He held up a finger with an attempt to add some sternness to his voice. "But... none tonight."

"Ok!" she exclaimed, even as she darted closer to the display.

Shopping with her was never dull.

After she'd claimed her prized string cheese, she began happily skipping beside him. "Now, what?"

The most dreaded aisle in the store as one could barely breathe on it due to the overwhelming scents of all the cleaning products.

"Toilet paper."

"Ooh," she said as she jumped up and tapped a package on the second shelf. "Get the bears."

"Not that one," he said, already moving to the next set.

"But they're so happy on the tv," she protested as she frowned at him. "I want to be happy, too."

Turning away from her, he rolled his eyes again. He was going to have to start restricting her television time.

"Aww, daddy," she groaned as she laced her fingers through the buggy while pressing her face into its side. "Not the naked baby one."

With a chuckle, he began pushing the buggy again. "Let's go, mischief maker."

"I bet mommy would like the bear one better."

So, that's how it was going to be.

"Katrina will be happy with whatever we bring home," he replied, picking up some paper towels as they walked. "And so will you unless you have some money I'm unaware of and wish to buy the happy bears for yourself."

"I have a bunch in my piggy bank." She wiggled her finger at him. "And it's heavy, so that means I'm rich."

"Are you, now?" He nodded to a mother who was laughing behind her hand as they walked past. "Well, I guess you can buy the groceries next time."

Her eyes widened, pure horror swimming in the green. "No way. That's for my puppy."

Well, that made him pause. "What puppy?"

"The one at the shelter." She pouted her lips. "It needs a home, daddy. It's so sad."

That wasn't likely to happen. He could barely keep up with Bella on most days. Adding a puppy into the mix would surely drive him mad.

Shaking his head, he started toward the beauty department. "I'm sure it's content right where it is."

The huff at his side brought a grin to his face. What a little manipulator. In a few years, he was surely going to have his hands full.

"Do you think your mother will like this shampoo?"

Bella eyed the purple bottle as she stroked her chin. "I think so."

Thinking so wasn't exactly a confidence builder, but he supposed he had little other option than to take her word for it.

"Alright." He turned the buggy around. "Let's go before we buy the store."

"But then we could live here and eat whatever we want."

"Funny, Bells."

* * *

"Get the door," he said as he ascended the porch steps, his arms laden down by bags. "Hurry."

Bella bolted past him, the ice cream he'd promised her days ago dripping down her hands. After she'd shoved it open, he stepped through and paused as the scent of vanilla flooded his senses.

"It's so clean!" Bella exclaimed as she eased around him. "Look, daddy!"

Clean was an understatement. It sparkled. The house had never been given so much care.

"Oh, hello."

Eyes darting to the hallway, he found Katrina coming from his bedroom with a smile, her hair up in a bun with small strands hanging about her face, obviously after having fallen. If asked, he'd deny the small twinge in his trousers as his eyes journeyed down her form, taking in the tight jeans and dark blue blouse she wore. During any other time in their lives together, he would've already been walking toward her, intent to make her his. Alas, that wasn't to be... Somehow, he knew there should be a 'yet' in there somewhere.

"Did you use magic?"

Katrina's gaze fell to Bella, confusion swirling in her eyes. "Magic?"

Bella pointed at the floor. "It's so clean. Did you do it like Mickey with the brooms?" Her eyes widened. "Will _I_ be able to do that!?"

"Bella," he scolded as said floor became the home of some of her chocolate ice cream. "You're dripping."

As he moved to set the groceries on the counter, he grabbed a rag and ran some warm water over it before squatting and motioning her over.

"Come here, you little mess maker."

She skipped over to him with a grin as she licked at the cone. "Sorry, daddy."

While wiping her sticky hands, he glanced up at Katrina who was leaning against the counter and watching them with a smile.

"You didn't have to clean."

A few more strands of her red hair slipped from her bun as she shook her head. "I didn't have much else to do all day."

That's true, he thought with a nod as he stood and reached for the first bag. It wasn't like she knew anyone or had anywhere she could go. He'd even taken to feeling slightly guilty over the fact that she'd had to walk into town. Granted it wasn't that far, but still...

"You cooked, too?" His attention caught on the pots sitting atop the stove. "Katrina-"

A slight look of embarrassment tinged her features. "I _tried_ to cook. There's a significant difference."

Her nervous chuckle brought a smile to his face. It was so rare to see her fall prey to embarrassment. It was rather refreshing. "I see."

While Katrina was very skilled at many things, cooking had never been her strongest talent. The two of them had suffered through many less than tasteful meals together. He would pretend to love it and she would groan over her lack of ability. Such cases had seen him consoling her with great reward for his efforts. Many nights had seen them tangled around each other with Katrina showing him where her better talents rested. In truth, back then, he would have rather starved, than give up such pleasures.

"What is it?" Bella asked as she stood on tiptoes, her fingers gripping the counter. "Is it taco's?"

"Uhm, no," Katrina answered as she moved to lift Bella up to see inside the pot.

"Eww!" Bella turned to look at Katrina, her nose scrunched. "That's not natural."

Head falling back in laughter, he placed the milk in the fridge before pointing at the groceries. "Get busy, little miss."

Bella groaned as she slipped down Katrina's body. "I have to do everything."

"You're being dramatic," he said as he reached for a few cans of corn. "When you're done with the groceries, start your homework."

"Daddy," she whined, a little stomp of her foot accompanying it. "I just got home. I want to be with mommy."

He met Katrina's observant eyes for a moment before turning away. "You heard me, Bella."

Another groan came from Bella's direction, but he ignored her and moved to lift the lid on the pot.

"What happened here?"

Katrina smiled as she eased up beside him. "Someone biting off more than they could chew."

With a chuckle, he placed the pot beside the sink. "I believe it's the thought that counts."

As he set about cleaning out the pot, he noticed her biting her lip as she watched him. He knew what that meant. Her mind was set on something and she was attempting to sort out a way to go about either telling or asking for it.

"Is something the matter?"

Genuine concern filled him. She looked more nervous than usual and he'd never been sure how to handle a nervous Katrina.

"I'm sorry."

Ceasing his task, he turned to her. "For what?"

A shrug of her shoulders was all he received as she glanced at Bella who was busy trying to make her lunchables fit in the fridge.

"I didn't set the best example for Abbie of the life I want to have here." She gave a half smile. "It's hard to want to prove yourself to someone at the same time that you want to strangle them."

"Katrina-"

"I know," she cut in, her eyes falling to her hands. "I know I have to accept her being a part of Bella's life, but I'm not going to pretend like I don't still have dreams about the night she killed our son."

Heat spread along his neck. The touchiness of this subject never failed to leave him uncomfortable.

"I'm sure she has dreams about you trying to kill both her and I." He shook his head at the ridiculousness of his next words. "And half of Sleepy Hollow."

"I'm trying to be kind," she whispered, her voice low and hurt tinged.

"There was time you didn't have to try. You used to be kind without effort."

"Daddy, it won't fit," Bella groaned from behind him.

Tearing his gaze from Katrina's defeated expression, he found his daughter, sitting cross legged on the floor with her arms folded over her chest. The pout on her face only added to her already aggravated posture. With a sigh, he wiped his hands on a dishtowel and knelt beside her.

"Here." He pulled out a leftover pizza and set it on the counter. "How about now?"

"Ok," Bella said as she jumped up and began gathering her lunchables from the floor.

Satisfied she was content, he reclaimed his feet and turned back to Katrina, who was still watching him with that same look.

"I have a few things to take care of in my office." He stepped up to the sink and ran some water into the pot. "This needs to soak for a while."

"Ichabod."

Her fingers wrapped around his arm as he began to move away, forcing him to release a heavy breath through his nose. Why could they never have a simple, happy moment?

"It's in the past, Katrina." He pulled her hand from him and let it go. "The future is all I care about. Who you choose to be now... that's what matters. Make a decision, stick to it, and the rest will fall into place."

There was less acceptance appearing over her face than he would have liked to see. If anything, he would have thought she would love the idea of him putting their past in the past... or, at least, trying to.

"You look beautiful," he whispered, pushing a soft smile to his face as he brushed some hair over her ear. "I'm glad you found something to wear."

A little more light came to the green of her eyes as they lifted to him, that sparkle returning.

Clearing his throat, he gave another small smile and turned to make his way into his office.

* * *

Mr. Billings was going to murder him.

Once again, he'd been pulled into a meeting with his employer due to their need of something extravagant to pull people through their doors. However, his mind had been on everything but what the man had been saying. Then, there was the fact that he'd already spent so many days home with Bella while she was suffering from her magic's appearance.

Leaning forward in his office chair, he groaned at the ache in his neck. The sofa would not do for too many more nights. He was going to have to go gather Katrina's things before he permanently damaged something upon his person. That and even one night without his bed already had him missing it. He was a man now accustomed to the luxury of a soft resting place. No longer was he a soldier sleeping on the cold, hard ground for months on end. No, now he was a pampered modern man who cherished his bed. Should he ever encounter his past self, he was sure there would be some ridicule thrown into the conversation.

Thoughts of Katrina had him leaning his head into his hands. How one woman could cause so much strife in a man's life was madness. She was like a hurricane of mood swings, manipulation, and incomparable sexiness. It wouldn't be so worrisome if there wasn't always a catch with her. He feared the moment he would find her up to no good. Hour after hour spent alone in their house would only lead to too many dubious thoughts. She could only clean so much in a day before she became bored and began to find other things to occupy her time. Someone like Katrina wasn't made for domesticated housework. She was too intelligent, too eager to be accomplished. If left alone to her own devices, he feared the repercussions. Perhaps, he could find her a small job somewhere to keep her distracted, or, at least, a time consuming hobby.

As he continued thinking of her, his mind wandered to how wonderful she'd looked in those jeans, the way they clung to her every curve. While he was thankful she'd taken him up on his offer to purchase some things for herself, he wondered how long such kindness would take to make him combust. Perhaps, it hadn't been best to tell her how beautiful he considered her to be. He had, just the night before, told her to cease her advances toward him. How could he expect her to listen to him when he was going against his own wishes. Added to his words and the blatant way he continued to stare at her body were the touches he kept giving her. A brush of hair over her ear. Lifting her chin to catch her eyes. It was too much.

Eyes clenching shut, he winced as a shot of need swept over his groin.

"No, no, no," he whispered to himself as he shook his head.

He'd be lying to say he hadn't indulged in self pleasure with thoughts of her in mind. Late at night, when all was silent, he'd find his hand around his cock before he thought better of himself, his mind focused on images burned into his memory from long ago days. They'd been so passionate once, unable to keep their hands from one another. It was a wonder Bella didn't have a whole slew of brothers and sisters.

"For God's sake," he whispered as he dropped his hands, his groin throbbing. "Please, stop. She's a manipulative liar."

It didn't help that it had been so very long since he'd had the sort of release Katrina could give him. She was torturous in her methods, but the end result never failed to leave him breathless and satisfied beyond comprehension. It was as though she had a sixth sense of how to completely tear him to shreds before putting him right back together again. The things she'd done to him in the past... And not conventional things such as her mouth on his cock, but, other, less dignified methods. His hands had been bound to bed posts more times than he could remember without actually sitting and writing down each memory.

Guilt formed in the back of his throat as he considered that his last release had come from Betsy's hands. Not a whole week ago, he'd been parked in front of her house, his pants unbuckled, and her tongue in his mouth. However, he wasn't sure if the guilt was from his newer thoughts of Katrina, or the fact that Betsy had ever had the chance to put her hands on him. Either way, he felt as though he was being unfaithful to someone. He just wasn't sure which woman it was. It also didn't help his guilt at all that his cock was throbbing with need and all he could see was red hair and green eyes swirling in the forefront of his mind.

"For God's sake," he whispered as he dropped his hands to his lap in an attempt to place pressure against his aching groin. "She's a manipulative liar who could burn you alive should she have such an inclination."

But, God, how he wanted her. It didn't help that he had a fresh picture of how beautiful her body now was. Everything was filled out, her curves practically begging to have his hands explore them. No longer were they in their youth. If anything, age had only made her more enticing and he more willing to have sole custody of giving and taking her pleasure. He could swear her taste was still on his tongue.

Abruptly shutting his laptop, he stood and made his way toward the door before he did something over which he wouldn't be able to meet her eyes next he saw her.

"See?"

As he eased from his room, he found Bella and Katrina sprawled out on the living room floor, crayons and papers spread out all around them.

"You have to be careful to not get out of the lines," Bella explained as she moved her orange crayon. "It's really hard."

Katrina smiled as her eyes danced from Bella to the picture.

"Well, you're very skilled." She pointed at the picture. "I imagine you'll be a grand artist one day."

Bella scrunched her nose. "Nah uh, I don't think so."

"Oh? Why not?"

Feet kicking at the air behind her, Bella replied, "I want to be an explorer like Aunt Jenny. She gets to go everywhere."

Katrina laughed. "That sounds adventurous. Your father used to love to travel and explore."

"He did?" Bella rolled over with wide eyes. "Did you go, too?"

"Sometimes." Katrina tucked some of Bella's hair back. "He'd take me anywhere I wished to go."

Leaning against the door frame, he smiled as he watched two of them.

"Daddy never goes anywhere."

A smile touched Katrina's lips. "Well, maybe he'll take you somewhere soon. I'm sure if you asked, he would. All you need do is bat your eyes at him."

Bella giggled and asked, "Is that what you do?"

"Oh, yes," Katrina laughed. "When we first married, I desperately wished to see where he grew up."

"Did he take you?" Bella asked, her focus plastered to Katrina.

"No, but he did the next best thing." Katrina tapped Bella's nose. "When I was a little girl, I always wanted to visit the place my grandmother was born. So, he took me to Amsterdam and that was actually the place we picked your name."

"Really?" Bella sat up. "Daddy never told me that story."

"Well, it's not a very long story." Katrina tilted her head to look at Bella. "While we were there, he told me of his own grandparents and how dearly he'd cherished them."

He remembered every detail of that trip down to the smell of the air. It had been a long journey by ship, but well worth the time spent watching Katrina beam at the sights she'd wished to see for so long.

"So, we decided to name our first son and daughter after them; Jeremy and Bella Crane." Katrina smiled. "And we couldn't wait to meet you both."

Instead of returning Katrina's smile, Bella began chewing her lip. "Why did you leave us, mommy?"

The startled look which crossed Katrina's face had his voice lodged in his throat. As much as he'd liked to have imagined Bella would just accept her mother being here all of a sudden, he'd dreaded the questions he'd yet to even think up answers for.

"Bella, I didn't-" Katrina's eyes fell to the carpet. "I would never leave you."

"But you did," Bella whispered as she rolled back to her belly and picked up her crayon. "And you made daddy cry."

Clearly lost for words, Katrina's mouth opened and closed a few times before actual words came forth. "I love you, Bella." She dropped her head in an attempt to catch Bella's eyes. "And I love your father."

Breath catching, he warred with himself over if he should return to his office or make himself known. This was clearly a very private moment.

"It's just that..." Katrina twisted some strands of carpet between her fingers. "I lost my way and the two of us changed and... I couldn't be with him any longer."

Bella lifted her eyes to Katrina, the hope in them too bright to deny. "Do you and daddy love each other, now?"

"Oh, Bella," Katrina whispered. "I... I think a part of us will always love one another because of you."

"No, mommy," Bella groaned as she dropped her face onto her book. "That's what Crystal's mommy told her and her mommy and daddy hate each other." Bella lifted her head and the tears had him stepping forward. "Do you hate my daddy? He's nice and all the other mommy's like him. Tara's mommy even said she'd marry him if he'd let her."

Katrina pushed herself up and pulled Bella into her lap, her arms wrapping around Bella's small form. "I don't hate your daddy, Bella." She pressed a kiss to Bella's cheek. "He's the only person I've ever given my heart to and... I'll never love anyone as much as I love him."

Bella choked on her words. "My teacher said you'd leave us again."

Katrina pulled Bella back. "What? Your teacher told you that?"

With a shake of her head, Bella said, "She told another teacher and I heard her. Is it true?"

"Of course not," Katrina answered with an encouraging smile. "Nothing in the world could take me from you."

"Daddy, too?"

Deciding to step forward before this conversation became too involved, he cleared his throat and began walking toward them, causing Bella's eyes to flicker up to his.

"You took forever, daddy."

Feeling about two inches tall, his eyes darted to Katrina for about two seconds before his collar heated and he glanced at the kitchen. From the knowing look on her face, if she didn't murder him in his sleep, he'd consider himself blessed.

"Did you eat?"

Katrina set Bella back down and stood. "Bella said you like turkey. So, we made sandwiches." She brushed past him and pulled a plate from the microwave. "Is this alright?"

Eyeing the plate, he fiddled with the edge of it. "Yes, it's..." He sighed and slouched against the counter. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

The neutral tone of her voice kept his eyes firmly on the plate. God, she scared him to death.

"I shouldn't have listened," he whispered before calling on his courage and meeting her eyes. "It wasn't for me to hear."

"No, it wasn't," she replied in clipped tone.

With a nod, he glanced at Bella, who was engrossed in her homework, before meeting Katrina's eyes again. "You make me so nervous."

Green eyes softening ever so slightly, she leveled him with a small smile. "What did I say regarding your worrying about things you can't control?"

Chuckling, he shrugged. "Something along the lines of me being too handsome to do so."

Her fingers found the hem of his shirt, pulling his eyes down to find her closer. "Everything I said to her was the truth."

Eyes falling closed, he shook his head and laid his hand over hers. "I thought we agreed to not play games any longer."

"I'm not playing a game," she whispered, threading their fingers together. "Our love isn't as it was, but it's still there. Even if I never love you to that all consuming extent I did before, you will always be the only man to ever possess my heart."

He couldn't breathe, or, at least, he couldn't breathe well. Unable to help himself, he slid his other arm around her and pulled her against himself to rest his forehead to hers. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?" she whispered, her breath warming his face.

"Make me yours after everything you've done." He tightened his fingers around hers. "It's barely been a day and already you have me wrapped around your fingers. I have a life apart from you now, Katrina. I can't just fall back into you as though nothing's changed."

"It's just the way we are, Ichabod." She smiled, the fingers of her free hand teasing his back. "It's the way we've always been."

"Even when we weren't supposed to be," he chuckled. "We've spent more time wanting each other than actually being with each other."

"I'm not trying to confuse you. I'm just trying to find myself again." She shook her head. "And even though I hate to admit it, you have always been the person who made me better; who made me realize life was about more than duty and reputation."

He shouldn't, but he couldn't help himself. Her words had haunted him since the moment she'd uttered them. She'd torn his heart to pieces without batting an eye. "You told me you didn't belong with me; that it was foolish to think you could ever share a life with a mortal man."

A flurry of blinks followed his words as she dropped her gaze from his, but not before he saw the surprise and regret in it. "I wasn't myself."

How he wished he could just accept that. "I believe you were. I believe you spoke of exactly how you felt."

"Ichabod-"

"Only I can't understand how you could feel that way when, without me, our children would never have been created in the first place."

There was a flinch in her form; one that spoke volumes to her discomfort. It did nothing but make him feel, once again, that this arrangement was never going to work. They went from hot to cold with little to no provocation in either direction.

"Bells, are you almost done?" he asked, while looking over Katrina's shoulder.

She bobbed her head as she continued coloring. "Almost."

Knowing that meant she was nowhere close to being finished, he settled his eyes back on Katrina only to find her staring at the floor. What he wouldn't give to be able to hear her thoughts. "I'm grateful to you for our family."

A choked chuckle slipped through her lips. "You mean the one that's in pieces?"

"Pieces?" he asked with a frown. He, then, tilted her chin and turned her to look at Bella. "She looks rather happy to me. That's because she has both her parents with her."

As Katrina's eyes lingered on Bella, he sighed and picked up his plate before moving to sit on the sofa.

"Daddy?"

Would she poison him? he thought as he stared at the sandwich. Surely not. She may go from hating him to pretending to love him, but she wouldn't do that.

"Yes?"

"Can we go to the park tomorrow? Madison's going with her mommy."

"We'll have to see," he answered as he lifted the bread to see what was underneath. "I don't see why not, though."

Katrina eased onto the cushion beside him, the warmth from her body seeping through his shirt.

"Ok." Bella exclaimed. "You'll like Madison, mommy."

"I'm sure, I will."

Lifting his gaze, he found Katrina watching him with a measure of amusement on her face.

"Is something wrong with the sandwich, Ichabod?"

Out of sorts, he adjusted the bread and shook his head. "No, not a thing."

Katrina's expression never changed. "Are you going to eat it?"

"Yeah, daddy," Bella chimed in scoldingly. "You always tell me not to play with my food."

At a loss for what to do other than proceed, he lifted the sandwich with only one moment more of hesitation before taking a bite. Well, nothing tasted different than normal. He supposed that was a good sign. Then again, Katrina was no novice when it came to spells and potions. He imagined he could be slowly dying at this very moment and not know a thing about it.

"How is it?" Katrina asked with a smirk. "I added a little something extra to give it some magic."

Forcing himself to swallow, he rather tentatively asked, "And that is?"

"Kindness."

While Bella giggled, obviously unaware of the tense context, he stiffened and held Katrina's eyes. How he both hated and desired her. Or perhaps, it was that he hated that he desired her. It didn't matter. He was finished with this conversation. Turning his full attention to his sandwich, he reached for the remote and switched on the television.

However, his luck was horrible this night.

"See, daddy," Bella exclaimed, wildly gesturing at the rather chirpy Charmin commercial. "The bears love their toilet paper."

* * *

 **Next up: Phones. A day at the park. Nosey moms. Tense Ichatrina.**


	9. Chapter 9

"Why can't I get a phone, daddy?"

"Bella," he scolded, snapping his fingers and pointing to the space between he and Katrina. "Now."

Face casting a sour look, she set the phone case she'd been picking up back on its display before dragging her feet as she moved to resume her place in the seat. When she slumped back with her arms crossed and a pout on her lips, he leaned close to her ear. "You're pushing your luck today, young lady."

Gold-green flickered up to him, a defiant expression on her face. "You're so mean, daddy!"

With that outburst, she fell over against Katrina and buried her face in Katrina's blouse. Torn between being put out and torn up over his daughter's current disdain for him, he met Katrina's eyes with mild exasperation.

However, she only smiled at him, making him sure that she was taking some form of satisfaction out of his dilemma as she wrapped her arms around Bella in a consoling fashion. Since when had he become the stern parent? Rolling his eyes, he nearly opened his mouth to rebuke her when she did something he wouldn't have expected.

"Bella," she whispered as she stroked her fingers through their daughter's hair. "You shouldn't speak to your father in such a way."

Bella made a dissatisfied sound as she burrowed further into Katrina's side, but Katrina didn't falter. "He knows what's best for you and you should obey him."

Bella sat up, her wet cheeks casting a pink tinge. "But he's mean."

"That's not what you told me last night." Katrina smiled as she wiped her fingers over Bella's cheek. "You said he was the best daddy in the world."

With a scowl, Bella grunted and pushed away from Katrina. "You're supposed to be on my side."

"Do _not_ speak to your mother like that," he whispered, reaching for her arm and straightening her in her seat. "Now, sit still and adjust your attitude."

"I don't have to!" she growled as she attempted to exit her seat, forcing him to catch her around the arm and tug her back down.

"Bella, you're about two second's from a spanking." He raised an eyebrow. " _And_ losing your day to play with Madison."

One loud huff later and she'd jerked her arms across her body as she slumped in her seat, allowing her long, dark hair to hang in front of her face.

Spankings were rare in their house. He, himself, had only given her four and he was sure he'd cried more than she had. Abbie, on the other hand, kept a belt on hand for his stubborn child while Jenny tended to rest her case somewhere in the middle. She never spanked Bella, but she could sure put the fear of God in her when she had to. He just prayed he didn't have to start doing the same. If this morning was any indication, he feared the worst. It had started with her wanting to wear pajama's to the park and went right into wanting taco's for breakfast.

He supposed she did have a good reason to be in a right foul mood. Their night hadn't gone as well as the one before it. Right around three in the morning, Katrina had shook him awake with the warning that Bella was struggling in her sleep. He'd been at Bella's side in moments in a panic only to find her restfully sleeping. For a moment, he'd thought Katrina was insane, but, then, hardly a full minute later, Bella had bolted upright, her breathing labored and her voice caught in her throat. Thankfully, there had been no fires or any other destructive forces accompanying her waking, but it had scared her nonetheless. The three of them had stayed awake for near to an hour afterward, with he and Katrina both attempting to calm Bella enough for her to return to sleep.

Katrina had assured him that Bella was fine. Apparently, the way her magic worked was tied to her emotions. Nightmares or stress were two key triggers to calling her power to the surface. Until she managed to get a handle on it, the outbursts would continue.

"Sorry about the wait," a woman said while coming to stand in front of them. "We had a small problem with the system."

Taking a deep breath, he stood and held out his hand. "That's perfectly alright."

The young woman, looking to be in her late twenties, glanced at Katrina and Bella with a bright smile, despite the latter's still present frown. "So, what can I do for you today?"

He cleared his throat and gestured to Katrina. "Adding a line to my plan."

The woman, Vikki, he gathered from her name tag, nodded and began backing toward the counter. "Sure, just follow me."

Turning to hold out his hand for Bella, he was hardly surprised when she took Katrina's, instead. Ignoring the pain it sent through him, he ran a hand through his hair and began following Vikki across the room.

"Did you have a phone already?"

"No," he said, placing his on the counter. "One like this will be fine, though."

While Vikki nodded and departed, he glanced at Bella, who had her face pressed to the glass, looking at all the items inside.

"I really don't think this is necessary," Katrina said as she eyed his phone with slight trepidation. "You know I'm not the best with modern technology."

"It'll be easier for all of us." He met her eyes. "We can better keep track of Bella and make plans this way."

Rather than argue with him, he was thankful when Katrina shrugged and knelt next to Bella to look at the display. The two of them were two peas in a pod for sure. If one wasn't upset, the other most assuredly was.

Vikki returned, a white box in hand, and gestured to the display of cases with a smile. "Did you have one picked out?"

He glanced at Katrina in question who shook her head. "It doesn't matter. Anything's fine."

Deciding this might improve her mood, he tapped Bella's shoulder and nodded to the display. "Choose your mother a case."

"Really?" Bella excitedly jumped up and began running her finger along the glass. "That one!"

Vikki opened the glass and lifted the purple case out of the display. "Great choice!"

Bella beamed as she looked at Katrina. "Do you like it, mommy?"

Katrina laughed as she ran her fingers through Bella's hair. "It's perfect."

Satisfied he had all in hand, he slid his keys over to Katrina. "Could you get her buckled in the car? I'll be out as soon as we get everything set."

"Alright," Katrina answered as she reached for Bella's hand. "Let's go."

As the two of them walked away, Vikki laughed. "Your wife's the most agreeable customer I've ever had. Most women want to see everything and then spend twenty minutes asking questions about the pros and cons."

Clearing his throat, he avoided the woman's eyes. "She's not my wife."

"Oh," Vikki's eyes widened. "I'm so sorry. I just assumed... with your daughter."

"It was an honest mistake," he replied, hoping to put an end to the conversation right there. "How long will this take?"

* * *

"Look, daddy!" Bella squirmed in her seat. "How'd they get the balloons way up there?"

Leaning forward, he noticed the red and blue balloons high above the car dealership. "You just can't see the string."

"Or maybe it's magic."

With a sigh, he glanced at Katrina, who was staring out the passenger window, her own interest piqued by the balloons.

"Bella, what did we talk about?"

A small groan came before she said, "Not to talk about magic when we're not home."

"Exactly." He stopped at a red light. "You'd do well to keep that in mind today."

"But daddy, it's just us," she protested. "I can talk about it to you and mommy."

Why did she always have to have an answer for everything? Oh, right. She was his and Katrina's daughter.

"Because you never know who's listening." He glanced at her through the rear view mirror. "Alright?"

She crossed her arms and threw her head against the seat. At the end of his wits, he considered it was only eleven in the morning and sighed again. This was going to be a long day.

Steering into a parking space, he shut down the engine and unbuckled his seat belt before turning to look at Bella.

"You are always to be where?"

Katrina frowned as she looked between them, her brow knit in evident confusion.

"In your sight," Bella responded, her eyes already out the window and on the bustling park.

"Right," he said before adding, "No repeats of last time."

Satisfied she understood, or, at least that's what he told himself, he opened his door.

The park was fairly busy this morning with parents and children scattered all about the area. At least, the day was beautiful. Hopefully, it would perk everyone's moods up a bit. He wasn't sure how much more he could handle before his mood took a turn for the worse as well.

When Bella and Katrina were close, he gestured Bella toward him and knelt before her. "I'm sorry I was so hard on you earlier, but, Bells, you have to learn that you can't have everything you want any more than I or your mother can."

She squirmed, her shoes twisting in the grass. "Sorry, daddy."

The small whisper had him reaching to pull her into a hug. With her little form pressed against his, he whispered, "I'm sorry you had such a scary night."

Her head bobbed as she nodded against his shoulder. He just couldn't stay upset with her. How many five year olds had the excuse she did for her mood?

"Alright, now apologize to your mother and you can go play."

Without a word, Bella spun on her heel and ran over to Katrina, who dropped down to catch her. They spoke quietly for a moment before Bella shot off toward the swings.

Muttering a small groan, he pushed himself to his feet. There were a few too many women in his life.

"What happened last time?"

With a tired glance at Katrina, he found her watching after Bella. "She gets wound up and tends to forget she can't just run off as she pleases. I found her down the street, chasing a stray dog."

Katrina smiled as she crossed her arms. "She really loves dogs."

"Yes," he replied, recalling his and Bella's conversation from yesterday. "She wants one for her birthday."

"Will you give her one?"

He shrugged and began walking in Bella's direction. "It's a great deal of responsibility. I'm not sure she's ready for it."

"When I was a girl, I had a red bird."

"Named Red," he said, twisting to smile at her. "You told me."

"But, due to my craft, I didn't tell the full story," Katrina explained as she fell into step beside him. "As a young girl and only child, I spent a great deal of time alone on my father's farm, leaving me with little contact with other children. My mother tutored me in my magic and other studies, but there was always a need deep within me to share my talent with someone new; someone who knew nothing of my secret life."

Katrina's eyes were focused ahead, leaving him the opportunity to gaze upon her and absorb the way the sunlight glinted off her hair. Could there be anything more beautiful?

"It was hard to be so silent. I was a very outspoken girl and my mother, haunted by her own childhood of fleeing after my grandmother's passing, never gave me a moment's relief from the warnings she always pressed upon me. It was as though she feared her very shadow at times." A small smile came to her face. "One day, I was in the garden behind our family home, practicing my craft, when a red bird lighted beside me. I offered it a handful of seed and, from that moment on, it followed me everywhere I went. It became my friend, someone to which I could pour out my heart; all my anger, joy, sorrow, fear." She turned to face him, her expression solemn. "I know you don't ask my opinion, but I believe Bella needs a friend such as that bird was to me. Being a witch can be a very lonely walk without companionship. She'll need someone to confide in; someone who won't judge or ridicule her."

The lump in his throat was lodged pretty well. Did he really have to wonder why she kept her witchcraft a secret? So much to carry for someone so young.

"Perhaps, a puppy won't be so bad."

A bright smile came to Katrina's lips as she turned to look out at Bella. It was enough to soothe him to the point that he felt like he could begin actually acknowledging her this morning. Since their rather odd conversation the night before, he'd barely addressed her at all. He'd just been so tense afterward and it didn't help that his thoughts had been just as muddled.

Taking a seat on the bench facing the swings, he asked, "Did you enjoy our morning monster?"

Katrina bowed her head, her laughter shaking her. "To be honest, I wasn't sure how to handle her mood this morning. I hadn't thought she could be so moody."

"It can be a challenge at times with how stubborn she is. Not to mention her holding the title for being the most exaggerated complainer I've ever met."

A teasing smile touched Katrina's lips as she took the seat beside him. "Well, she is your daughter."

Not about to take all the blame, he added, "She also has an awful temper. The fury that wells in her is quiet, but you can watch it sweep over her whole body." He leaned close to ask, "Is breathing fire one of her gifts because, at times, it certainly looks like she could."

With a laugh and lick to her lips, Katrina whispered, "No."

Shrugging, he returned his gaze to Bella. "We put a lot of terrible things in her." He shook his head as her dark hair flew every which way. "Thankfully, she's also very merciful. She's intelligent, spirited, and amusing." He looked at Katrina again, finding her own gaze on their daughter. "We put a great many beautiful things into her as well."

Gold-green flickered to him, first to his eyes, then to his mouth. To be honest, they were very close on the bench. She didn't have many other places to look. Then again, maybe his mouth looked just as inviting as hers did.

"Daddy!"

Shaken out of his thoughts, he found Bella darting toward him, Madison trailing behind her.

"Madison's here!"

The fair haired girl grinned at him as she pushed some of her bushy hair from her face. "Hi, Mr. Crane."

"Hello, Madison," he said, leaning forward on the bench. "How are you, today?"

"Ok," she whispered, never one to talk too much.

Maybe that was why Bella had made such quick friends with her; plenty of talking space.

"This is my mommy," Bella said as she leaned over Katrina's legs.

For her part, Katrina beamed at the young girl. "Bella talks about you all the time. You must be a very true friend."

"Hey, guys." Tish, Madison's mother, came around the bench, her blonde hair pulled back from her face. "Sorry, we're late."

Gaining his feet, he politely shook his head. "Oh, no, we haven't been here long, either."

"Awesome!" she said as she set her bag down beside the bench. "Madison's been ecstatic all morning." He chuckled as Tish held her hand out to Katrina. "You must be Bella's mother."

Katrina smiled as she accepted the gesture. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Ok, we're going to play, now," Bella said, taking Madison's hand and bolting toward the swings.

As he watched the girls dart away, Tish gestured behind her. "You'd be surprised how fast news of your arrival has spread across town."

He flinched, dread for the conversation ahead already lodged within him. "What do you mean?"

Tish shrugged and nodded to Katrina with a teasing smile. "I heard about you in the grocery line behind Taylor's mom, who apparently heard it from Samantha's mom."

Of course, the school grapevine. If one person had a bit of news, soon the whole town would. Privacy was something he'd never again have. It was quite the hard pill to swallow.

"But depending on who you ask, you're either dating, remarried, or living together." Tish laughed, tilting her head as she looked Katrina over. "I've also heard varying descriptions regarding your looks, which range from drop dead gorgeous to straight up homely."

Rolling his eyes, he reclaimed his seat and slouched against it. "I'm never leaving the house again."

Tish sat next to him, leaving him planted between the two women.

"Oh, come on, Ichabod," she laughed with a pat to his arm. "We haven't had something this scandalous to chew on since the big divorce scandal between Taylor's parents."

He groaned. "It's not a scandal."

"So, you're not living together?"

He shot Tish a disgruntled look. "It's for Bella."

"Mhm," she muttered as she began digging in her huge bag. "I saw Betsy yesterday."

Shifting uncomfortably, he glanced at Katrina, who was now staring at the ground. "Tish..."

"What?" she asked with wide eyes. "I'm just saying, there's a lot of speculation going on." She held out a pack of gum. "Gum?"

He leaned forward and pressed his head into his hands. "It's no one's business."

"In this town?" She chuckled and patted his back. "Good luck with that."

Katrina cleared her throat and shifted on the bench. "How long have Bella and your daughter been friends?"

Subject change. Thank God.

"Oh, birth, I think," Tish answered with a chuckle. "Ichabod brought Bella to the same pediatrician as me and, while he had Abbie or Jenny with him at all times, I could tell the poor man needed help with his newborn."

Settling his face deeper into his hands, he wished this wasn't happening. Now, he wished they could return to the rumors.

"So, I decided to make friends with him during our long waits. Bella was an absolute beautiful baby. Ichabod was so proud of her."

"I'm sure he was," Katrina whispered, the low change in her voice making him give a small flinch.

A heavy silence settled and he just knew Tish was dying on the inside from curiosity. So, he panicked a bit and blurted the first thought that came to his mind.

"Katrina's been in England studying," he said, being sure to avoid her eyes. "It was very demanding of her time and she's from a very old fashioned family who's strict about schooling."

"Oh." Tish frowned as she glanced between him and Katrina. "That's..."

"Yes," Katrina said, her tone edgy. "And Ichabod, my _husband_ , was wonderful enough to take our baby and move to America, while leaving me alone with my... _strict_ family."

Able to take no more, he stood and began pacing. This was going less than well and it didn't help that his words had come out with the wrong sort of implications.

"Ichabod," Tish asked, concern lacing her voice. "Are you alright?"

"Of course," he answered, running a hand over the back of his neck. "I'm fine."

He hardly sounded fine and when he met Katrina's gold green eyes, he knew he was right. She was staring at him with a mixture of sorrow and anger, the latter stabbing him straight through the heart.

So, much for their heart to heart. It was too late to make up another story at this point, though.

"So, the two of you are still married?"

"No."

"Yes."

His eyes jerked to Katrina, wide and startled. What was she doing?

"You see," Katrina began, her eyes leaving him to turn to Tish, a small smile on her lips. "We've been separated for quite some time, but, I'd wager in the eyes of God, we're still bound by marriage." She shrugged and turned her gaze to his, cutting him to pieces. "Or did I miss those divorce papers?"

Heart hammering, he opened his mouth, but promptly closed it right after. She was better at this than him, he had to remind himself. She played dirty.

"Well, if you hadn't chosen less important things in life over our marriage, we wouldn't have _been_ separated."

Her eyes narrowed, flashing a fire in them that would surely burn him where he stood were it real. "I chose our son."

"Holy shit, you have a son!?"

Suddenly aware of where he was, he turned to Tish, who was practically on the edge of her seat as her head swiveled to look from him to Katrina.

"No." His eyes slammed shut. "I mean, yes."

"You don't know?" Tish glanced between him and Katrina, her face set deep in a frown.

"He passed away," he whispered, staring at Katrina's shoes. "Not long after he was born."

"Oh, I'm... so sorry."

He nodded, but Katrina standing brought his gaze to hers at last. The blank look on her face was enough to crush his spirits altogether. He'd rather her be angry than give him that look; the one that seemed to say he didn't mean anything to her at all; that he couldn't affect her at all.

"I think I'll take a walk." She turned to Tish with a tight smile. "It was lovely to meet you."

With that, she set off down the path, her red hair swaying in the breeze.

"Oh my God," Tish said, her eyes wide. "That was..."

"Forgive me, Tish. I-" He shook his head. "We should not have spoken so..."

"Oh, no, it's fine." Tish smiled understandingly. "I know this must be hard for you."

Collapsing into his seat, he whispered, "You have no idea."

* * *

The car ride home was silent save for Bella's rambling about the rolly polly's she and Madison had found beneath the slide. The consolation he took from her constant chatter was that her mood had improved. Katrina, on the other hand, hadn't said a word since returning from her walk and it was beginning to bother him immensely. It seemed he was right about one of them always being in a bad mood. He supposed they'd decided to take turns. For that, he was grateful.

"Bella, go wash up for dinner."

"You know, Ms. Ross said some germs are good for you."

Rolling his eyes, he tapped her upturned nose. "Do you want bugs in your food?"

"Eww, gross, daddy," she groaned as she stomped off toward the bathroom. "Boys are so gross."

As Katrina walked past him, he shut the door and yelled, "You keep thinking that way!"

When he heard the bathroom door shut, he cast a wary glance at the still tense mother of his child. Time to break the silence, he supposed.

"Listen, Katrina-"

"So, is that what I'm to be?" she asked, holding out her hands as she spun to face him. "I chose my job over our child?"

He shook his head as he lifted a hand to press against his eyes. "I didn't mean for it to sound that way. I-I panicked."

"And now I'm some horrible mother because of it."

Jerking his head up, he caught her glistening eyes and couldn't stop the step he took forward. "No one thinks that," he whispered. "No one and I'd never allow them to."

She nodded as she looked away from him and the sight broke something within him. Being a mother was all she had; all she'd wanted for so long. How could he ruin it in a matter of moments?

"I'm trying so hard to be acceptable for you. I'm shoving everything I feel aside to be with our daughter; to be with _you_."

"Katrina-"

"I want to strangle you," she whispered, her eyes darkening as she turned them toward him. "I want to rip you to pieces and feed you to the dogs."

Cold warning swept over him as he took a step away from her.

"Do you have any idea how much restraint it took to hear that woman talk about how beautiful _my_ baby was?" She jerked a finger to point at the bathroom. "I have no idea what she looked like other than from what I've seen in the few pictures you have sitting out. Then, for you to act as though I never wanted to be with her? Ichabod, I swear-"

He opened his mouth to speak when Bella came bounding down the hallway. "What's for dinner?"

Katrina turned her back to Bella as he forced a smile. "I don't know, sweetheart. I'll find something."

"Can we order a pizza?" she asked hopefully.

"Uhm," he glanced at Katrina who was wiping at her face. "Yes. That'll be perfect."

"Yay!" Bella jumped on the sofa and began bouncing. "We're getting pizza!"

Unsure what to do with Katrina, he cleared his throat and pulled out his phone. "I'll just..."

As no one was listening to him, he stepped onto the porch and made the call before deciding to just sit out there and wait for the pizza to arrive.

What had he done? Everything had been going so well. They'd even found a weird sort of rhythm. Now, Katrina was back to wanting to murder him and for what? A few words he should have thought to better phrase? In truth, he could see why she was upset. He'd been thinking of excuses since releasing her and he'd been circling the one that had her away from them due to choices that weren't her own, not because she didn't wish to be with them. Somehow, though, he'd managed to screw it all up in a matter of a few seconds.

His phone vibrated, causing him to turn it over and find Betsy's name flashing across the screen.

Perfect. Just what he needed. Another woman angry with him today. First, Bella. Then, Katrina. Surely, Abbie was still fuming at him. He wasn't sure he could take another hit this soon.

Groaning, he wiped a hand down his face and lifted the phone to his ear. "Hi."

"Hey," she whispered, her voice low. "How are you?"

"At the moment?" He gave a tired chuckle. "Not wonderful."

A quiet pause lingered before she softly replied, "I'm sorry to hear that."

Nodding as if she could actually see him, he admitted, "I should have called you already. Please, forgive me."

"Ichabod." She sighed and he could almost imagine her brown eyes staring at her feet as she shifted them back and forth. "You have a lot going on."

"I do," he answered. "More than you could imagine, but that's not an excuse to hurt you."

"It's fine-"

"It's not," he countered. "You've been so good to Bella and I."

"I care about you," she whispered.

Eyes falling closed, he propped his head in his hand and sighed. There had been a time in his life where a simple smile in his direction from a woman had been his greatest wish. Now, he had two women smiling at him, begging him to give him their attention, and he couldn't make himself treat either appropriately. Granted, he was sure Katrina's smiles had disappeared for a while.

"You don't have to say anything," she added.

Realizing he'd lingered in silence too long, he replied, "I should."

"But you don't have to." She chuckled. "I'm a big girl, Ichabod. One who's been rejected more than once. If you don't want this anymore, I'd rather you tell me now."

Feeling like the devil, himself, he shook his head. "I don't _know_ what I want."

Brakes squeaking brought his gaze up to find the pizza had arrived. Had he been out here that long? A glance at his watch told him half an hour had passed.

"The pizza's here."

"What?"

Standing, he began walking toward the steps. "I ordered a pizza and it just arrived." He wiped a hand down his face. "Can you... if you want... call me later tonight?"

"Yeah," she whispered. "I'll talk to you then."

* * *

"It was so cool," Bella exclaimed, her body humming with energy. "Mommy can do anything!"

Since walking through the front door, Bella had been bouncing around while praising Katrina. It made him feel a little resentful.

"Can she?" He set her a piece of pizza on her plate as she bounced on the sofa.

Bella's eyes widened. "Yeah, show him, mommy!"

Katrina took a seat next to Bella with a smile. "He's seen me levitate things before."

Nodding his head, he held out a plate for Katrina to take. "I have."

Her eyes met his momentarily as she accepted the offering, but it didn't last as she tore them away in favor of her food. He supposed there'd be no lingering looks between them tonight. He wasn't sure if that relieved or disappointed him. Judging from the drop in his spirits, it must have been the latter.

"Ok," Bella said, obviously disappointed she wasn't getting another show.

"So, what are we starting with?" he asked, taking a seat on Bella's other side.

"Mulan," Bella laughed. "She's so cool."

He sighed in relief. At least, this one had a decent amount of action.

"Mommy's never watched a Disney movie," Bella said, her disbelief nearly tangible.

"Really?" he asked, eyebrow raised as he smiled at Katrina. "That's a shame."

She didn't return his smile, but at least he didn't receive a glare. He considered it an improvement.

"Yeah," Bella said, taking a bite of her pizza. "It's so sad."

He chuckled and relaxed into the sofa cushions, sure this would be interesting. "I suppose you'll have to watch all of them with her."

Bella nodded enthusiastically as she chewed causing him to smile at her excitement before lifting his gaze to Katrina again. Since talking to Betsy, he'd determined to take his heart and examine it more closely. He truly did care for her. He just wasn't sure it was the kind of care that could lead to love. Anything short of what he'd had with Katrina would be a disappointment and he simply wasn't sure his feelings toward Betsy would ever compare. However, he owed her the courtesy of knowing for sure.

With a sigh, he returned his gaze to the screen as the movie began.

* * *

Rolling his head to the side, he opened his eyes to ask where they were in the movie only to find the room shrouded in darkness.

Oh.

Stretching his body to get the kinks out, he stood and switched the lamp on before making his way into the kitchen for a sip of water.

As he stood at the sink, swishing the water in his mouth, he stared at his bedroom door, contemplating if he could actually slip in without disturbing her and grab a change of clothes as he was still dressed in his long sleeved shirt and pants. Short of sleeping nude, which was not something he did any longer due to Bella climbing in the bed with him at various stages in the night, he needed something else.

Deciding he could manage it, he tentatively moved over to the door and pressed his ear to it. No sounds were being made which he took to mean she was in bed. So, doing his best to be quiet, he eased the door open and slipped in. The room was dark save for the bathroom light, which he assumed she'd left on. Like mother, like daughter; they both hated the dark.

Tiptoeing to his dresser, he eased the top drawer open to pull out a shirt.

"Ichabod?"

Nearly jumping out of his skin, he spun on his heel as the bedside lamp switched on, showing her sitting up with her long hair falling over her shoulders.

"I'm so sorry," he muttered as he gestured to the clothes. "I just... I needed..."

"It's alright." She nodded toward the door. "We didn't want to wake you."

As she ran her hand down one of her bare arms, he felt himself jerk forward a little. There she was, just sitting in his bed, all beautiful and half naked. Oh, the temptation she was.

Clearing his throat, he dropped his eyes to the floor. "Bella went to bed alright?"

"Yes, she was really excited about her magic."

With a sigh, he stared at his bare feet, observing the way his toes burrowed in the carpet. "I'm glad."

"You don't sound glad," she whispered, drawing his gaze back to hers. "You sound disappointed."

Shaking his head, he found himself lost for how to explain what he was feeling. It wasn't the magic that was bothering him. It was the look that had been on Katrina's face when Tish had been talking about Bella as a baby.

A thought occurred to him, prompting him to turn to his closet and reach for a box on the top shelf. After acquiring it, he began approaching her, but paused when he noticed her tense. "I want to show you something, if that's alright?"

She seemed to hesitate before she nodded and sat straighter, pulling the blankets further up her body.

Tentatively taking a seat on the edge of the bed, he set the box between them and removed the lid. Inside were several pictures, but the particular book he was in search of was at the bottom. Pulling it out, he opened it and handed it to her.

"It's her baby book," he explained. "It's basically all the big to do events that occurred during her first years."

Katrina cradled the book in one hand and ran her fingers over the first picture, one of Bella on her first day of life. Abbie had snapped it after placing Bella on the bed for him to change her diaper.

"That was a very trying moment for me," he said with a chuckle. "The first of a thousand diapers to come."

A smile came to Katrina's face, prompting him to edge closer to her so he could flip the page.

"This was all her measurements and a few things about her first day." He ran his finger over her weight. "She was tiny. 6lbs 3ounces."

"Twenty inches long," she whispered, her voice cracking.

"She was a good baby, if not a little temperamental," he added with a smile, hoping to draw her out. "I'd sit up late into the night, rocking her and reading her stories covering all manner of subjects." He grinned. "She was no more fond of Ben Franklin than I was."

Katrina laughed as he turned the page to show more pictures.

"She truly _was_ beautiful," he added, wanting her to know that was fact. "Pictures don't do her justice."

Finger running over Bella's face, she whispered, "I dreamed of holding her so many times."

Eyes on her as she stared at the next picture, he felt himself begin to build with emotion. For the thousandth time, he cursed destiny and what it had done to them. His and her gifts, the one's fate had bestowed upon them, were the worst things that had ever happened to them.

"I wanted you so desperately." His breath caught as her gaze flickered to him. "I couldn't..." He shook his head as his eyes fell closed in an attempt to hold back his tears. "Abbie stayed with me to help me during those first few weeks, but it..." He choked on a sob. "That's not the way it was supposed to be, Katrina."

"You could have let me hold her once," she whispered. "Just once."

"But I couldn't," he responded as he opened his eyes to meet her gaze, which wasn't on him, but the pictures. "Once would never have been enough... for either of us."

He stared at her beautiful face, wishing the right words would come to him.

"You were right," he admitted, reaching out to tilt her head up. "You _are_ my greatest weakness, but that's only because you're still so tightly wound around my heart." He laid his hand over hers, taking it within his and bringing it to his chest. "You're the mother of my child and..." He shook his head. "I wasn't allowed to see you after Bella was born. You were right abut that, too. Abbie knew I'd let you go. She knew how weak I was; how much having you with Bella meant to me; how much having you to myself meant."

Katrina's fingers wrapped around his as she set the book aside and eased closer to him, so close she was practically in his lap. "Everyone has weakness in them. Before Jeremy, you were my greatest weakness as well."

Had he been? Doubt for the depth of her love had constantly swirled in his mind, yet there was always their beginning to consider; that love they'd shared centuries before. She'd chosen Purgatory over surrendering him, but that had been before; back when life had been simpler.

"I can't shake my distrust in you," he admitted. "I feel like you're going to turn on me at any time."

"I won't."

"But how do I know that isn't another lie?" he asked, meeting her eyes. "How do I know what the truth is?"

"I have no reason to lie," she explained. "I have nothing to fear of you or anyone else. I'm not going to lose anything by secrets being revealed. So, why would I keep them?"

"I don't know," he whispered, head falling forward to rest in his hands. "I don't know anything anymore."

Her fingers began scratching along the back of his neck as she moved closer to him, close enough to press her breasts against his side as she leaned over his shoulder.

"You know that you love, Bella; that we both love, Bella." Her warm breath caressed his ear. "You know that we'd both do anything to make her happy."

Habit had him turning into her neck, desperate to feel some comfort. His fingers tangled in the back of her nightgown as he burrowed further into her skin, his mouth pressed against her neck.

As her arms wrapped around him, she went on, "Us being together; we make her happy."

It would be so easy to give into feeling; to give into what he knew would feel good. She always felt so good.

"Trust is earned," she whispered as she slipped her leg over him, effectively straddling his lap. "I'll earn it back."

Every inch of her felt like heaven. However, it was when her lips began trailing along his cheek that he felt his body truly begin to respond.

"Katrina-"

Her fingers touched his lips as her own hovered just to the side of his mouth. "Stop thinking so much. This is as natural as breathing for me. I know it is for you, too."

How could he argue with that? It was as true as the sun rising every morning.

Hardly another full second passed before he felt her warm breath slipping between his lips as she softly brushed her mouth to his. It was like waking up after a long sleep; something he knew all too well. How long had it been since he'd known her kiss? Her intimate touch? No longer. Her fingers were woven through his hair as she pressed her body closer to his, the warmth between her thighs hot against his lap.

The only true thought he could conjure any longer was the question of where to put his hands. There was so much of her to touch, to familiarize himself with all over again. Where to begin was the only quandary he now had.

Resting one firm hand along her hip, he slid the other up her back, where he cupped the back of her neck to hold her close.

When her tongue began gliding along his lips, instinct parted them rather than actual thought. That same instinct had his hips jolting up to meet hers as her tongue teasingly touched his.

The pressure between their laps was sweet relief, something she must have appreciated as much as he due to her fingers tightening in his hair as her other hand slid down his chest. It was only natural to follow her lead as he had so many times before. As her fingers began on his shirt buttons, his fell to the hem of her nightgown and began working it up her thighs. Her smooth skin enticed him onward, leading him over her hip and up her side; his hand on a path that led to that plump flesh on her chest.

"Mmm," she moaned as his thumb brushed over her nipple, the sound reverberating in his mouth as she pressed further into his touch.

It was that very sound that led him to twist them around and lay her back against the pillows, never once breaking their kiss as he settled between her parted thighs. The soft, smooth flesh under his fingers had his blood boiling in all the right places, making their kisses all the more urgent. That desire he'd attempted to keep at bay had been unleashed, filling his trousers and leaving them tighter than usual. Rolling his hips into her, he felt her intake of breath before he heard it. The way she arched into him, seeking more pressure between their centers, drove him to slip his hand between their bodies in search of that place he'd once loved to spend his mornings and evenings exploring.

The first touch had her breaking their kiss as she tilted her head back into the pillows, responding just as he'd wanted as his fingers proceeded to delve deeper against her panties.

"Ichabod..."

His name on her lips drew his gaze up to find her chest and neck flushed, her mouth slightly parted as she panted for air. It was a truly beautiful sight.

However, it wasn't a sight he was permitted to enjoy long as the vibrating phone in his pocket snapped his attention.

Betsy.

Suddenly feeling sick, he hastily left Katrina's embrace and pushed himself from the bed before stumbling a few feet away where he squatted to catch his breath.

"Ichabod?" Her breathless inquiry had his eyes slamming shut as he attempted to gather himself. What had he nearly done? "What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry, Katrina," he whispered as he wiped his hands down his face, only to catch a whiff of her scent on his fingers. "Oh, God."

He'd touched her; had been ready to delve into her deepest depths and give his body over to her. The idea of how consequential that would have been slammed into him.

"You don't have to apologize. I want this. We both want this."

Shaking his head, he answered, "It doesn't matter what we want."

He pushed himself to his feet and turned to face her, only to find her arms wrapped around herself as though cold. However, he knew it wasn't the cold, but rejection fresh on her mind that had her protecting herself.

"How would you feel if I was kissing another woman without your knowledge?"

Her eyes fell, but not before he saw a certain vulnerability there. "I'd feel betrayed and heartbroken."

God, it was a vicious cycle. She felt this way now and he'd felt it years ago.

"We torture each other, don't we? It's a wonder we can stand to be in the same room." When her eyes found his again, he whispered, "I imagined what you were doing with Abraham so many times. It became so bad that I sometimes felt as though I'd actually caught you."

Her entire countenance fell as she stood and took his hand. "I never allowed him to touch me; not once."

Nodding, he dropped his eyes to their hands. "I'm sorry. I just can't do this to her. She loves me. She loves Bella."

Katrina's fingers tightened around his. "Do you love her?"

The hesitation in her voice drew his eyes to the doubt in her gaze. "I don't know how I feel any more."

"And if you suddenly trusted me and became sure of my love for you? Would that change your lack of knowledge about what you want with her?"

"Katrina-"

"It's not fair to her," Katrina pressed, her voice on the edge of begging. "Loving her any less than you once loved me is stealing her chance at true love. Have you ever considered that perhaps the reason you haven't told Bella about your relationship with Betsy is because you know it's not meant to be?"

No response came to him. What could he truly say anyway? Perhaps, he could ask when Katrina suddenly began caring about another woman's true love.

"You and I, I believe we're meant to torture each other forever, my love." Katrina shrugged her shoulders as she ran her fingers over the long, jagged scar plastered across his chest. "We shouldn't force others to join in our torture when it can never really be about them."

"My love," he echoed as he dropped her hands. "The last time that phrase was used between us, you wrapped a chain around my neck and said you were no longer my love."

She crossed her arms as if to protect herself while managing to look somewhat ashamed. "I was upset."

"And that makes twice you've used that excuse in as many days," he replied, his voice raising. "How am I supposed to trust you when that's the way you react when you're upset?"

When her eyes fell, he stepped back in an attempt to clear his head. "Whether I maintain my relationship with Betsy or not isn't the problem here, Katrina. _You_ are."

A moment's pause allowed her face to cloud with doubt. "You told me that the past was in the past; that I had a choice to make about who I wanted to be in my future. I know you might not believe that I want you, but, as I said earlier, I'll earn your trust with time."

"Time?"

She shrugged as she folded her fingers over her belly. "Ichabod, I've been here for three days and have yet to strangle you, Abbie, or the other woman you've allowed to touch you, even with the provocation from all three of you to do so." She knit her brow. "Is that not at least a small testament to how much I want a life here with you and Bella?"

"You behaving for _three days_ is supposed to mean something?"

"It should when I could've killed all of you as easily as blinking and taken Bella to raise myself."

"See," he said, pointing a finger at her. " _That_ is why I distrust you; when you say things like that."

She rolled her eyes. "It's supposed to make you trust me more by knowing that I haven't done it; that I don't intend to do it."

Damn her, he thought as he turned to his dresser and began finding some clothes to sleep in. She was nothing but a smart ass disguised in the skin of a beautiful woman sent to tempt him straight into hell.

"Give me a chance, Ichabod."

Yanking a shirt from the drawer, he argued, "I have."

"No, you're waiting for me to fail; to do something awful so you can be proven right. I want a real chance."

With a shake of his head, he allowed his dress shirt to fall from his arms before he pulled the new one over his head.

"Ichabod, please."

The desperation in her voice was what had him turning his head to find her standing where he'd left her, arms crossed, and a pleading expression on her face.

"What would you have me do, Katrina?" His shoulders slumped in defeat. "I've done everything I know to do to welcome you into my home."

"Don't hold your breath in fear every time I lift my hand. Don't dance around me as though you have to placate my every whim to prevent disaster. If you have the urge to kiss me, kiss me. If you want to tell me I'm beautiful, say it. If you want to run your fingers through me hair, do it. Stop acting as though you don't stare at me with longing. Stop acting as though you don't want to be within me. Stop doubting me. Have _faith_ in me, Ichabod."

The ability to breathe properly seemed like a foreign action. All he knew was that his chest was rising and falling rapidly in desperate need for a calm. "I don't know that I can do that."

Her eyes painfully cut away from him as she nodded, leaving him feeling like he'd done something wrong. When had he become the bad guy?

Shaking his head, he turned to grab a pair of sleep pants. "I'm sorry."

With that, he started for the door.

* * *

 **My next update probably won't be until the end of June as I'm going out of state for a week. If I can finish the next one up before I leave, I'll try to get it posted. Until then...**

 **Next up: Shopping. Interaction with Betsy.**


	10. Chapter 10

"When's Aunt Jenny going to be here?"

With a deep breath, one he held and then released very slowly, he attempted to snap her ponytail in place. To his chagrin, the finished product was no better than the last three attempts he'd made as he was still staring at a whole slew of bumps. Nearly ready to throw his hands up and quit, he hung his head.

"I don't know, sweetheart. Soon."

Lifting a hand to rub at his eyes, which he knew to be puffy and red due to his lack of sleep, he prayed for Jenny's arrival.

"Did you mess it up again?"

The knowing tone to her voice had him rolling his eyes as he pulled the ponytail from her hair, allowing the silky locks to fall every which way. "No."

Bella turned to him, her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized him. "Yes, you did."

"I'm doing the best I can," he muttered while nodding for her to return to her previous position. "Now, let's try again."

"Can't I just wake mommy up?"

"Nope," he quickly replied, absolutely no hesitation on his part. "We're letting her rest."

And he hoped she rested all day; all day and all night and maybe even into the next day.

Bella made a dissatisfied grunt as she turned around. "You're so stubborn, daddy."

Flabbergasted, he sat back in the swing and stared at the back of her head. " _I'm_ stubborn? What about you?"

"I'm stubborn because of you." She crossed her arms. "It's all your fault."

"All my-"

"Good morning."

Interrupted mid outburst, he tore his eyes from Bella to find Katrina emerging through the front door, her hair pulled over one shoulder and a sleepy smile on her face. However, it was the grey sweats she wore that seemed entirely out of place on her. Too bad it did nothing to dull her beauty. For that, he was not grateful.

"Thank heavens," Bella groaned while pointing at him over her shoulder. "Daddy's horrible at ponytails. We've been here _forever_!"

The exaggeration on Bella's part rubbed his annoyance regarding this particular interaction even deeper.

"Is he?" Katrina playfully raised her eyebrows at Bella, but never once looked at him. "Well, isn't that a shame?"

Rolling his eyes, he held out the ponytail for her to take as she walked past him and took a seat next to him on the porch swing. Just the heat from her body was enough to make him feel out of sorts. He didn't know whether to lean into her warmth, or do everything he could to escape it. The latter was likely the better option, yet here he sat, not moving in the least.

"Come here, love. Let's show your father how it's done."

As Bella swiftly bounced from his lap to Katrina's, he cast her a sour expression. "You're a little traitor. I'll remember this."

While Bella only giggled and sat straighter, Katrina took to pulling her long hair together.

"You certainly have thick enough hair," Katrina said as she ran her fingers through the silky locks.

"Like yours, mommy?"

Katrina smiled as she answered, "I think both your father and I contributed to this."

Contrary to his words the night before regarding her wishes of him, he reached out and brushed Katrina's hair over her ear. "Some more than others."

The smile that lit her face was incomparable. It wasn't bright or soft. It was knowing. It was gratefulness. It was all he wanted to see and feared to acknowledge. Why he did such things to himself was lost on him. Perhaps, he was a glutton for punishment. After he'd settled on the sofa the night before, all he'd been able to focus on was the fact that they'd still be making love if his phone hadn't rang. They'd be tangled around one another, completely falling into their joining; completely oblivious to all else but the pleasures they'd longed for too many years past now. The worst part was that he'd returned to the room and watched her sleep for the better part of an hour, wanting more than anything to wake her up and tell her he could do the things she'd asked of him.

It was true what she'd said about him not giving her a fair chance. All this time, he'd been waiting for the other shoe to drop and not even bothering to hide it. Never in his mind had he just trusted her word. Then again, what real reason did he have to trust her other than the fact that she hadn't already murdered him and taken Bella?

"All done," Katrina proclaimed as she let Bella's hair go, the ponytail remaining perfectly in place with nary a bump in sight.

Not a moment later, Bella jumped up and skipped over to the window where she began hopping about and taking in her reflection.

"It's perfect!" She turned to Katrina with a beaming expression. "Thanks, mommy!"

"You're very welcome."

With a giggle, Bella waved at them and darted toward the door. "I'm going to brush my teeth!"

Katrina's smile followed her right through the door. "What's she so excited about this morning?"

"Jenny's taking her to the zoo."

"Oh." Katrina turned to face him, her smile somewhat dimming. "So, it's just you and I on this lovely Sunday, then?"

He regarded her even tone with a bit of wariness, something that must have crossed his face as she was soon leaning to kiss his cheek and afterward lingering a little too close to him for his comfort. Maybe it was her way of saying they were alright, but it really didn't matter. When she did such things, it often left him without his willpower. It was because of that very reason he hadn't awoken her the night before. Now, more than ever, he needed to keep a clear head.

"I suppose so," he answered as he sat straighter in an attempt to put some distance between them.

At his movement, she nodded and sat back, allowing them to gently sway back and forth. "I know what I want to do today."

"And what's that?" he absentmindedly asked as he concentrated on how much space he could put between them without her noticing.

She tilted her head toward the porch steps. "Your flower beds along the porch skirting could use some love and attention."

Brow knitting as he followed her gaze, he said, "I don't have any flower beds."

"Oh?" Her smile spread as she tilted her head. "Silly me. I must have looked upon that sad excuse for a front yard and imagined it much brighter."

The chuckle bubbling in his throat couldn't be helped. "It's not the right time of year to garden."

"Oh? Is that so?" she asked, her eyebrow raised as she turned to face him, bringing a leg up to rest on the swing between them. "It would seem you in fact _don't_ know everything. October is the time to plant an array of flowers."

Well, that was news to him. "And you intend to plant such flowers?"

"With Bella's help of course." She bit her lip. "As soon as you purchase them."

Women. There was always a catch. Last night, she'd been all but in tears over his lack of reciprocation to her wishes and today she acted as though it never happened. How was he supposed to follow those sorts of moods?

"You are the biggest handful I ever decided to acknowledge in my life."

"You love me anyway."

Mouth suddenly gone dry, he swallowed in an attempt to wet it. The way she so casually slipped that in there begged the question of if she'd been just waiting for an opening. He wouldn't be surprised. Katrina had always been one to seize opportunities when she saw them.

Thankfully, he was saved from having to reply by Jenny's truck pulling into the driveway. Quickly hopping up from the swing, he began fidgeting with his shirt in the hopes that it wasn't as clear to Katrina as he felt it was that he was steadily coming unwound. He swore that one more well placed touch from her would have him bursting from the seams.

"Am I going to be threatened again?" Katrina asked as she watched Jenny approach.

"If you are, I beg you to be the bigger person and not rise to temptation."

Which wasn't likely to happen, he thought, as Jenny ascended the porch steps.

"Morning, Crane's," she greeted as she nodded to them. "Where's Bels?"

"Teeth," he muttered, before clearing his throat. "She's brushing her teeth."

"Uh huh." Jenny's eyes ventured to Katrina, a mild interest emitting from her brown orbs. "I see you've found new accommodations."

Katrina leaned back in the swing and crossed her arms, her gaze leveled at Jenny with what seemed to be the utmost politeness. "No, I've simply found my way home."

A pause accompanied Katrina's words as Jenny stared at her through observant eyes. It was then that he decided Katrina hardly tended to help herself in these sorts of situations with her smart mouth. Sometimes, it came off as though she was just begging for a confrontation.

"Are the two of you going to be gone long?"

Jenny chuckled as she leaned against one of the posts, her entire countenance shifting to one of amusement. "Chill out, dad. I'll have her home by her curfew."

Rolling his eyes, he resumed his seat next to Katrina as she spoke, "Bella thinks a great deal of you."

More than a little shocked, he nervously cut his eyes to see Katrina and sighed in relief when he found her harboring a pleasant expression.

Jenny, on the other hand, raised an eyebrow. "I think a great deal of her."

"Thank you," Katrina went on while her gaze fell to her hands. "For everything you've done."

Heart hammering, he glanced up at Jenny, quite sure he was dreaming. Katrina had thanked one of the Mills sisters? And had seemed sincere? Surely, he was dreaming. However, as his eyes returned to Katrina, he found her breathing rather shallowly as she waited for Jenny's response, her fingers picking at the hem of her shirt. It was then that it dawned on him she was nervous. She was _actually_ nervous. What in the hell was going on with her?

"I didn't do it for you," Jenny replied, her eyes narrowed. "I did it for him and I did it for Bella."

Katrina gave a small laugh as she lifted her head to Jenny with a thin smile. "Whatever the reason, I still thank you for all you've done for my family... and for me."

A pregnant pause lingered between the two women, one that had him as far on edge as he felt it possible to be.

"Everything I've done has been to help _my_ family." Jenny crossed her arms as she stood straighter, her head tilting to the side. "Blood or not."

"Yes," he interrupted, nervous they'd start comparing who was the more treasured family member. "We're all family and better for it." Hoping that put an end to their chat, he turned to Katrina. "Will you please get her? She'll use the whole tube of toothpaste."

For the better part of a heartbeat, he thought she'd say no. Thankfully, that didn't happen.

"Of course." Her hand pressed down on his thigh as she pushed herself up. "I'll have her right out."

With that, she started for the door.

"She's pretty touchy with you." Jenny raised an eyebrow as the door closed. "You sure forgave her quick."

He bristled, the implications unnerving him. "Barely touching me is what constitutes forgiveness in your opinion?"

Jenny smirked as she nodded toward the swing. "From the way it looked when I drove up, she was practically in your lap."

A warmth came to his cheeks, making him pray he wasn't as red as he felt.

"My sister's pretty pissed with you, you know."

And just like that, a cold feeling swept through him, ridding him of his warm cheeks. Bracing himself for another argument, he defended, "It was your idea to let her out."

"No, no, no" Jenny argued with a shake of her head. "It was my idea to consult her about Bella. I never said anything about letting her out."

"You said to do whatever I had to in order to help my daughter." He gestured toward the door. "And I did."

Jenny smiled as she shifted against the post. "You've got balls, Crane. I'll give you that. I'm just telling you to keep them covered so my sister doesn't castrate you."

The thought worried him more than it should have. If there was one thing he and Abbie continually disagreed on, it was the subject of Katrina. Never before had they truly argued over anything else.

"If Katrina was planning to do something, she'd have done it by now. It's not as though she couldn't wipe us all away with little effort."

"Maybe she wants to gain your trust so she can tear your heart out again." Jenny looked him square in the eye. "Nothing's worse than thinking someone's changed, giving your heart to them, and then having the rug pulled out from under you."

He narrowed his eyes, sensing more to Jenny's words than she was letting on. "Are those your thoughts? Or Abbie's?"

She chuckled, leaving him more sure than ever that she was just the mouthpiece. "Does it matter? Katrina's the one with the reputation for being a manipulative, plotting murderer."

Sheer aggravation swept through him as he threw up his hands and asked, "Why does everyone keep saying she's a murderer? She's never murdered anyone."

"My bad," Jenny countered, holding up her hands. "Attempted murderer... against hundreds of people, including you, if you recall."

Having no reply, he sat there, heart pounding in his chest as all the air seeped out of him. Why couldn't he have one day without conflict? Just one?

"Aunt Jenny!" Bella shot out the door and vaulted into Jenny's arms, throwing her hands around her Aunt's neck with a squeal. "You're late, missy!"

The two of them together never failed to leave him questioning his sanity. Jenny had most definitely passed on her mischievousness to his daughter, something for which he was not grateful.

As they went back and forth, trading comments, he noticed Katrina leaning in the doorway, her eyes on Bella. She looked about as nervous as he felt.

"Ok, tell your mom and dad bye," Jenny said, pushing herself up and wiping off her jeans. "We've got a pretty good drive ahead of us."

Wasting no time, Bella darted over to Katrina and wrapped her arms around her waist, making Katrina smile as she bent over to kiss the top of Bella's head. "Bye, love. Have fun."

"Alright," he said as he slipped up behind Bella and lifted her up. "How about a personal escort to the car?"

"Ok!" She looked over her shoulder, her arms waving on either side of his neck. "Bye, mommy!"

There was a hint of discord in Katrina's eyes when they cut at him, but he did his best to ignore it for now. One thing at a time.

"Alright," he said as he reached down to retrieve Bella's backpack. "Let's get you buckled in."

As Jenny took the lead, he followed her down the steps, being careful to mind his footing.

"Where should you always be?"

"In Aunt Jenny's sight," Bella sighed as she pressed her head into his neck. "I won't run away again, daddy. I promise."

With a smile, he opened the back door and set her on the seat. "I know. I just want you to be safe, Bels."

Setting her backpack beside her, he reached over and buckled her in, making sure to avoid getting it too tight.

"What are you and mommy going to do?"

In truth, he hadn't considered the fact that he and Katrina would be alone before she'd brought it up earlier. Now, he was a tad worried about being so very alone with her.

"I'm not sure."

"Well, don't eat taco's without me," Bella warned with a pointed finger in his direction. "That would be rude, daddy."

The sassiness never ceased with this girl, he thought with a chuckle as he kissed her forehead. "I swear there shall be no taco's without you."

"Alright, let's get this party on the road." Jenny started the car and glanced back at Bella. "All set, munchkin?"

Bella nodded, her hand lifting to her head for a salute. "Aye, aye, Captain."

Jenny laughed as he shut the door and stepped back. A bit of worry always consumed him when he watched Bella drive away without him. He supposed that was something that would never change.

When they were out of sight, he started back toward the house only to find Katrina standing at the foot of the steps, surveying the yard. It would be easy for him to just return inside and ignore whatever was going on between them, but there was something within him that just wouldn't allow it. Perhaps, it was the knowledge that nothing good had ever come from them ignoring their problems.

"What are you contemplating?" he asked as he approached her, hoping a little lightheartedness would dull the heat between them. "Where to put all of those flowers I'm about to purchase?"

She smiled, her eyes turning to him as she crossed her arms and shook her head. "You don't have to. I just thought it might be something for us all to do as a family."

Deciding to desperately reach for some levity, he replied, "I actually think it's a wonderful idea. Bella will be over the moon about it."

While she smiled, the action didn't quite reach her eyes. It was undeniable that the air between them had changed to harbor a great deal of tension... not that there was ever many moments when there wasn't tension between them. If only he was better at dissolving such things.

"Katrina, about last night-"

"It doesn't matter," she cut in as she turned away from him and began up the steps. "We were tired and our emotions were running high. We should just forget about all of it. That's what I'm attempting to do, at least."

The abrupt way she dismissed him sparked something in his belly as he watched her walk away from him. It wasn't usually in Katrina's nature to miss an opportunity to set him straight or ridicule his behavior. So, her choosing to avoid the issues between them seemed odd.

What it was that prompted his next move, he couldn't say. Maybe it was her cold words, or the way she turned her back on him, but it had him reacting none the less. Determinedly taking the steps in one stride, he reached out and grasped her by the back of her arm before spinning her around and roughly pressing her into the front door, his mouth claiming hers with little room for objection or resistance. If she thought she was always going to be the one to call the shots, she was gravely mistaken.

The immediate feel of her warm form against his sent him into overdrive as he pushed his body deep against hers, not bothering to show the care he normally would have with her comfort. He wasn't out to hurt her, but he was determined to get her attention. Her small attempt to murmur his name was absorbed by his mouth as he devoured her, desperate to press as firmly into her as possible. The strangled noise that came from the back of her throat as she splayed her fingers over his shoulders ignited the fire that had his hands groping along her sides until he'd found her hip and spread one hand over it, squeezing it as he swiveled his own hips into the apex of her thighs. It would be a lie to say he wasn't aroused by her softness, or the way his body fit perfectly against hers, but, then again, he had no intention of lying to her. It wasn't until she gave a small moan that he finally allowed her some breathing room and parted their lips ever so slightly, allowing them to inhale the heavy, hot air warming the space between their bodies as they panted against one another.

"Ichabod..." she whispered, a shaky breath slipping between her lips as her eyes lifted to his with a searching look about them. "What are you doing?"

The knot forming in his throat was bothersome, but it wasn't near as frustrating as the ache that had settled in his core, begging for release from its pent up need. "It's rather hard to garner your attention without doing something drastic to catch you off guard."

Her eyes remained focused on his as she relaxed in his arms, her body practically melting around him. He swore he could actually feel her muscles uncoiling. "Well, as you have me wedged against this door, you have my full and undivided attention."

"Good," he whispered as he lifted his hand, allowing his fingers to tenderly brush her hair over her ear. "Because what happened matters and I won't forget about it."

The way her brow knit spoke of her confusion and he could hardly blame her for it. It seemed he was as wishy washy towards her as she was towards him.

"I want your eyes on me," he admitted softly, moving his thumb to trace her lips. "I want your skin against me. I want your thoughts to linger toward me. You consume me, make me better, and tear me apart a little more with every day that passes."

Her breath hitched as her fingers dug into his skin, surely leaving bite marks from her nails. "Now, who's playing games?"

Tightening his hold on her hip, he pressed her harder into the door, making sure his center was wedged between her thighs, allowing her the knowledge that he was serious in his need. "This isn't a game, Katrina, and we're not chess pieces to move every which way."

"If that's so, why do you keep changing the rules?" Her eyes narrowed. "Last night, you were sickened by what we did, by how close we came to..."

A noisy breath came from her nose as she attempted to turn her head away, the disappointment and rejection clear in her eyes.

"I wasn't-" He lifted a hand and cupped her cheek, making sure he could see her eyes. "Could you not tell how desperately I needed you?" He pulled her hips harder into his, stifling his own desire to open the door and push her onto the sofa. "How desperately I need you still?"

"You stopped." She closed her eyes, her breathing sharpening as a slight tremble came over her body. "And you decided to refuse me a fair chance."

"If my phone hadn't rang-" He smoothed his finger under her eyes, wishing she would open them. "I stopped because I'm involved with another woman, Katrina, and I owe her my loyalty."

"Loyalty?" she echoed, her eyes opening and cutting into his. "You're _my_ husband."

Swallowing hard to clear his throat, he shook his head, but she grabbed his face and forced him to look at her. "If you're so loyal to her, why did you just kiss me? Why are our clothes the only thing keeping you from being inside me?"

Because he was weak. Because he was selfish. Because he was tired of denying himself. Because she's beautiful. Because he knew she could fulfil him in ways that had nearly become a distant memory. There were a hundred reasons for his kissing her, but there was only one that mattered.

"Because I can't help myself." He sagged against her and dropped his head to her shoulder, relenting to just confessing. "And because I'm in love with you."

The soft way her arms wrapped around his waist and held him left him falling further into her as a weight lifted from him. It didn't help that she began pressing kisses along his neck, her gentle handling of him nearly dropping him to his knees.

"Would you believe me if I said I love you, too?"

He shuddered and shook his head, thousands of words trapped inside him, but only two escaping. "I'd try."

Her lips pressed to his shoulder and began moving toward his face. "I love you, Ichabod Crane. I swear on our children's souls that I love you."

Even his muscles were tired. It wasn't just his emotions, but every part of him had started to fall prey to her. Not even attempting to resist, he turned his head and met her lips, allowing her to take control of the moment, to kiss and touch him the way she wanted. It carried on to the point that he became flushed and dizzy, forcing him to pull away from her and rest his forehead to hers.

It was over now. There was no backtracking or pretending. He was laid bare before her, willing to give this his all, or be rejected while trying.

"Prove it to me."

A paused drifted between them, leaving him wondering if he'd even spoken aloud.

"How?" she asked, her brow knit. "You won't believe anything I say. You've refused to take me at my word at every turn."

"I don't know," he explained, his desperation to resolve this taking the last ounce of strength he possessed. "You're an intelligent woman. I'm sure you can think of something."

"Don't you think I would have already thought of it by now?"

"I need this, Katrina," he whispered, lifting his hand to rest along her cheek. "I need you and I'll do everything you asked of me in return if you just..."

"Everything?" she asked, her eyes falling, the evidence of what she meant written clear as day upon her face.

"I'll talk to her; tell her the truth."

"And what's the truth?" she asked, her eyes returning to his. " _I_ don't even know what the truth is, Ichabod."

"That I love you and I wish I could split myself and make everyone happy, but I can't." He adjusted his stance as he conjured the rest of his confidence. "You and Bella. If I can just make the two of you happy, I'll give my last breath to do it."

Her eyes lifted to his, yet to actually show him that she was pleased with his decision. "Bella's going to be the only person happy about this."

"It'll take adjustment."

"I just mean that... Abbie and Jenny." She shrugged as she threaded their fingers together. "They don't know me; they never have. They've never wanted to."

"And I know you?" he asked, unable to help the question.

Yes, he decided to give this his all, but it didn't mean he was going to walk into it blindly.

Her eyes met his, the gold green bright. "Better than anyone else ever has."

He shook his head, her words doing nothing to help the situation. "That's not very comforting, Katrina."

"It's the truth," she whispered, her eyes holding his. "You've always known my heart, even if you didn't know of my abilities."

"I want to know more," he admitted. "I want to know _everything_."

"Everything?" Her brow furrowed as she asked, "What do you mean?"

"I mean..." He lifted his hand to run his fingers through her hair. "I want to start at the beginning, at the day we met, and I want you to tell me everything."

"Ichabod, do you have any idea how long that would take?"

"Well, as I'm choosing to believe in your claim to love me, we should have the rest of our lives for you to share everything with me."

As her eyes danced between his, he took the opportunity to lean in and brush his lips over hers, wanting to leave zero doubt to his words. If this was truly to be the moment they once again chose to start their lives together, it would need to be with the intention to be straightforward and clear with one another, leaving no room for secrets and half truths.

"The beginning?" she whispered, her minty breath warming his face. "As in the very first moment?"

"The very first."

"I hated you," she admitted, her smile growing wider with her every word. "I thought you were the vilest of the vile and I wanted to light you on fire."

Chucking, he finally backed away from her, but refused to release her hand. "Is that the truth?"

"The absolute truth," she replied, her face once again harboring that brightness he always enjoyed seeing on her.

"Well, then," he reached past her and opened the door. "I suppose I should admit that while I was outwardly busy admiring your tenacity and refusal to submit to my authority, everything else within me was desperately wanting to get me in-between your legs."

As he held the door open for her, he watched her nearly double over in laughter.

"I'm glad the torment I experienced is so amusing to you. I had to wait nearly four years to get that particular need fulfilled."

After she'd managed to get a hold of herself, she joined him inside and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Don't worry, my love. You'll never have to wait so long to be fulfilled again."

Well, that sufficiently quieted him. Just the mere thought that he could take her to his room and sate every desire he had set his pulse to racing.

"About that," he whispered, his gaze peering down her body as it pressed against him. "I don't think..."

"We'll wait as long as you want." She tilted her head to catch his eyes. "All I want is your love."

The sigh of relief couldn't be helped as he nodded and lifted her fingers to his lips.

"We should probably go get those flowers." He smiled. "Bella will love the surprise when she sees them."

Katrina's small laugh was all the reassurance he needed.

* * *

He was hardly a gardener, something he had no qualms with admitting. His strengths came from being a scholar and soldier not an admirer of the earth and soil.

However, as opposed to gardening as he was when it came to something he wished to pursue himself, he couldn't help but want to see Katrina and Bella tackling a project together. This was Katrina's area of expertise and he was sure Bella would learn a great deal from her mother, not just about the beauty in nature, but the benefits in it as well. Being a nurse and someone inclined to use different herbs for spells and potions, Katrina knew what was helpful and what was lethal. She knew enough to make it fun.

The only problem was the one with which he was now faced: choosing the structure for the flower beds that were soon to line his front porch. There were so many different choices that he had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes. The overabundance of brands and products was something he'd become accustomed to over the years, but sometimes it still managed to rub him wrong.

Brick. Wood. Vinyl. Metal.

How in the hell was he supposed to pick one of these? His gut told him to seek the answer out from Katrina who was browsing the flowers just outside in the garden center, but he couldn't bring himself to ask about the one job he'd been given; entrusted with.

"Ichabod?"

Hairs standing up along his neck, he prayed it was a dream as he spun on his heel to find Betsy standing a few feet away.

Not a dream.

"Betsy," he said, a little louder than he probably should have. "Wha-What are you doing here?"

He cast a nervous glance over his shoulder to make sure Katrina hadn't suddenly popped up as well.

Betsy smiled and held up her basket of items. "I was picking up a few things for my classroom." She lifted a bag of popsicle sticks. "A craft Bella will be bringing home next week."

"Oh," he chuckled and ran his hand over the back of his neck. "That's... yes."

"Is she here with you?" She glanced up and down the aisle. "It's rare to see you without her."

"Jenny took her to the zoo."

"Ah." Betsy nodded, her smile sweet. "I bet she'll enjoy that."

His shoes suddenly became the most interesting things in the store. When had he become such a loathsome person?

"It's good to see you."

With a deep breath, he lifted his gaze as guilt began forming in his chest. She deserved so much better than this. There weren't many people he considered such genuinely good souls, but she was most definitely one of them. In all honesty, she was too good for him.

"Betsy, I-" He shook his head, knowing no words, no matter how eloquently put, would dull the betrayal. It was with that thought that he decided to just be straightforward with it. "I kissed Katrina."

There. It was out there. He'd said it. The consequences would just have to be what they were. Secrets had never been his strongest suit and he did his best to avoid them.

However, the way Betsy's smile slipped from her face was enough to make him feel like the worst fool ever conceived. Maybe Katrina had been right in her thinking the first time she saw him. He was the vilest of the vile.

"Oh." She laughed under her breath as she avoided his eyes. "I see."

Brow knitting as he tried to find some words of comfort, he added, "I'm so sorry."

With a small shrug of her shoulders, she admitted, "I can't say I'm surprised. Rumor around town is she's sleeping in your bed and you've began carting her everywhere you go."

It wasn't that he thought he was undeserving of her words, so much as surprised she'd uttered them.

"Betsy-"

"I don't want to come off as some insecure, jealous girlfriend, but it's hard to wrap my mind around all of this."

Eyes on his feet again, he nodded. "You're not the only one."

"Ichabod..." Her fingers were suddenly sliding over his cheek. "It's only natural that you'd become vulnerable around her. She's Bella's mother."

"It's more than that," he whispered, his eyes closing as he pulled her hand from his cheek. " _She's_ more than that."

"I know."

Before he could complete another thought, she'd stepped into his air space and softly pressed her lips to his. So shocked, he stood there like a limp buffoon, barely even breathing.

What was she doing? He'd just confessed to kissing another woman and she'd chosen to punish him by kissing him, herself? It was clear he was never going to understand women.

When she pulled back, she whispered, "I don't expect you to have all the answers right now. I just want to know that I matter to you."

"Of course, you matter," he replied, his thoughts muddled. "I care about you, but-"

She smiled and went in to kiss him again. It was odd that he was more resistant to the feeling than he had been a week ago. Now, he felt like he was truly being unfaithful.

Pressing his fingers into her arms, he gently pulled away from her. "Betsy, I can't-" A glimpse of red caught his eye, causing him to lose his breath all together. "Katrina."

It was like a nightmare; a train wreck in the making.

As Betsy turned to face Katrina, her hand stayed on his chest, the very place Katrina's eyes were focused. Surprisingly enough, she wasn't glaring, or frowning. She was just staring.

Quickly, and as politely and tactfully as he could manage, he took Betsy's hand and lowered it before letting it go and taking a full step away from her.

"I, uhm," he gestured between them. "The two of you met..."

"Yes," Katrina said, a smile suddenly appearing, one he knew to be insincere. "We did."

Betsy, while recovering much slower than Katrina, stood straighter, her own smile polite and cordial. "I sort of feel like I already know you. Bella gets so excited every time she mentions you."

He felt ill. They were being too kind to one another. Well, one was being kind. The other... well, she was putting on a good show borne from centuries of practice.

Katrina chuckled. "I could say the same of you."

Clearing his throat, he gestured to the shelves behind Betsy. "We were just getting some things for a flower garden. Katrina thought Bella might like the project."

Betsy raised an eyebrow. "Oh, that's so thoughtful. I'm sure she'll enjoy that." She paused. "So, you're staying for a while, then?"

Katrina's eyes cut toward him, but he had little response time before she said, "Permanently."

Wishing he could disappear, he turned to Betsy as she said, "I'm sure Bella's pleased. I have a friend who's a realtor. I'm sure he'd be happy to help you find a house at a good price."

It was the gentlest underlying threat he'd ever heard. However, as Katrina once again met his eyes, he noticed her brow slightly raise and sighed. If he survived this without some sort of physical ramifications, he'd be lucky.

"Bella's enjoying her mother so much. I just think it's best she stay in the same house with her."

Now, he had two sets of eyes on him, neither one looking pleased with him. How could they play nice with each other, but not him?

"I'm sorry, that's just..." Betsy laughed. "A little unheard of for a divorced couple."

Oh God, he thought as he wiped a hand down his face.

"We're not..." He turned to Katrina with a pleading expression. "Would you mind...?"

She lifted an eyebrow before she smiled at Betsy. "Lovely to see you again, Ms. Ross."

With that, she turned and headed back toward the flowers.

"What's going on?" Betsy asked as she watched Katrina leave. "I kinda feel like the two of you were having some whole other conversation."

For four months, he'd been dating this woman. She'd followed every wish he'd had in regards to Bella and his unwillingness to take their relationship all the way to bed. She'd been a godsend that both he and Bella adored. Now, he was about to crush her and he found himself reluctant to do so at the same time he knew he had to see it done.

"Betsy, I-"

"You figured it out."

Her words had him lifting his head to see the truth written in her eyes. "I can't- I can never express to you how sorry I am."

She nodded and looked in the direction Katrina had went. "She's beautiful." The resentment was in her voice even as she tried to hide it. "You didn't tell me that."

"You're beautiful," he replied. "You know how beautiful I think you are."

"Ichabod..."

This was hardly a conversation to be had in a public place. Why did his life always have to be played out with an audience? He felt as thought he'd spent hundreds of years being watched and studied. "It wasn't relevant as she was a non factor in my life. There was no need to speak of her."

"Was." Betsy sighed. "But she is now."

"She's Bella's mother-"

"And _you're_ ex wife," she finished, her eyes returning to his. "It's only been four days, Ichabod. She spent five years not being a part of Bella's life and you just let her waltz back in with barely any resistance?"

Deciding to just bite the bullet, he admitted, "She's my wife. We never..."

Betsy's eyes widened. "You're still married?"

Why did that sound so much worse than it actually was?

"We separated a long time ago and our marriage wasn't the conventional sort. We couldn't just go to the courthouse and file for divorce."

With an incredulous look, she said, "Be that as it may, it isn't like you to make such a rash decision, Ichabod, especially not when it's concerning Bella."

He held out his hands. "I know you're upset and that I've hurt you-"

"Hurt me?" she scoffed as she crossed her arms and stepped back. "You're not hurting me because I refuse to believe this is you acting rationally. What kind of hold does she have on you that you'd turn your life upside down for her?"

"Love," he whispered. "The kind of love I can't describe."

"It sounds more like lust than love," Betsy argued. "She's seducing you."

He couldn't help but chuckle, improper as it was to do so. Katrina manipulate him? It seemed more people knew her than she gave credit.

"That's quite likely," he admitted. "Katrina's very skilled at manipulation and using all of her wiles to get what she wants."

"That you can admit that and still trust her is beyond my comprehension."

"I never said I trusted her," he quickly replied. "I'm not jumping into bed with her and pretending like everything's perfect, but I am giving her a chance to prove she's changed. She deserves a fair chance." Before she could respond, he softly smiled. "I'm sorry, Betsy. I wish I could have done this differently, but I just... Time is precious and we're not promised tomorrow."

For a long moment, she stared at him.

It didn't really seem as though she believed he was breaking up with her. She actually looked like she thought he was under some kind of spell.

"I think you're making a mistake."

"I understand why you feel that way," he said. "But it's my mistake to make."

"And when it affects Bella?" she asked, her eyes searching him. "What, then?"

The fact that she was concerned for Bella made him feel even worse.

"I'll deal with it then, but, if there's one thing I know, Katrina values Bella's happiness as deeply as I do. If anyone is going to come out of this unscathed, it's her." Not knowing what else to say, he bowed his head to her. "I wish you the very best, Betsy."

* * *

As the automatic doors of the Garden Center slid shut in his wake, he found her hovering over a few flower pots, her long, red hair hanging in front of her. She looked so beautiful in the sunlight coming through the ceiling. It was while he was watching her that it occurred to him that in the span of one morning, everything had shifted in his life. When he'd awoken, he'd had doubts, but a strong yearning to make her happy. He'd been involved with one woman only to now be involved with another which, in all honesty, made him sound like a terrible person. Upon waking, he'd been concerned about everyone's opinion; Abbie's, Jenny's, Betsy's, Katrina's, Bella's. What he hadn't been doing was truly assessing his own needs. How could he help anyone if he wasn't taking care of himself?

Since waking in that cave all those years ago, his entire existence had revolved around one mission after another. He'd been a Witness. He'd had to free Katrina from one foe or another. He'd become obsessed with fatherhood and supplying Bella with everything that both a father and mother should be giving her. What he'd failed to do is make himself happy and had instead shared in all the moments he could from other people. Now, he was indulging in something that had the potential to relieve him of many of the weights in his life; something that would allow him a reprieve from responsibility and give him a small bit of happiness that was just his. Truthfully, he missed being married. As vulgar as she'd made it sound, Katrina had been right in what she'd said to him when he'd sought out her help. He missed having someone to return home to, someone who would take care of him for a change, someone to make dinner for him, to make love to him; someone who would share in his hurts, in his worries. With Katrina, he could have all of those things. It was just going to take some freely given trust on his part to get there.

"Find what you want?"

She shrugged her shoulders as she reached out to cup the petals on one of the flowers before her. "A few things."

He prayed her lack of eye contact with him wasn't a prelude to his learning she was upset with him. Stepping up to her side, he tilted his head to see her face. "Are you angry with me?"

"Why would I be angry?" she asked, never taking her eyes from the flowers she was sorting through.

"Well..." He flicked a dead leaf from the table. "She _was_ kissing me."

"Yes, she was," Katrina said with a chuckle. "And you were hardly interested in it."

Raising an eyebrow at her surety, he asked, "How do you know that? Betsy's quite a skilled kisser."

She stood straight and turned to him, mischief dancing in her eyes. "Because..."

The next thing she did was place her hands on his sides and lean up to brush her lips to his, teasing him by not fully pressing into him. Instead, she barely touched his lips and pulled away before coming at him from another angle. By the time he had her against him, he felt his pants growing tighter.

"Any more questions?" she asked, as she slipped her hand between them to tease his zipper.

Out of breath from doing absolutely nothing, he whispered, "No."

"Good," she said, untangling from him and returning to the flowers. "Now, I want this one and three of those over there."

* * *

 **Alrighty then, I managed to get up early enough to finish this update before I left. I hope it's going smoothly enough to follow, but I'm just warning you to not get too comfortable. There are many more obstacles to come. Let me know what you think.**

 **Next up: The fair. Talk of Jeremy and Abraham. More Abbie and Katrina confrontations. Bella makes a new friend.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Sorry about the delay. And yes, to whoever asked, I am on Tumblr as obsessedsleepygirl44.**

* * *

"So, it's like a festival?"

He cast a short look at Katrina, amused by her and Bella's ongoing conversation about the fair and all the festivities that went with it. Each and every new description from Bella had Katrina's eyes going a little wider. Granted, Bella did have an overinflated sense of how big the fair actually was. The last time she'd went, she'd barely been four.

"Yeah!" Bella exclaimed, her voice carrying around the car. "It has ginormous rides and cotton candy and animals. It's so much fun!"

Katrina laughed as she turned in her seat to look at Bella. "It sounds it."

"Will you ride the Ferris Wheel with me and daddy? We always ride that one together."

The look Katrina shot him was one of confusion, so he took the initiative to answer. "You should probably ask if she's afraid of heights, Bella."

"Are you?" Bella asked, her voice tinged with worry. "You can't ride it if you're scared. It's the tallest one! You can see _everything_ from the top."

Katrina shook her head. "I couldn't say. I've never been very high off the ground before."

"Oh." Bella whispered, clearly afraid her mother wouldn't join them. "I hope you aren't."

"I'm sure she'll be fine, sweetheart." He reached over and took Katrina's hand. "Your mother's very brave."

The small smile that creased Katrina's face as she sat back in her seat warmed him. As her fingers threaded through his over the console, she turned her head against the seat and kept her gaze on him.

It had been a whole two weeks since they'd decided to give this a chance and he couldn't say he had one complaint about it. He'd finally gone and collected her things from the chamber, something he'd had to ask Jenny's help in doing. Abbie had been out of town for work and had yet to pick up his calls, which he considered odd even under their current circumstances. However, that hadn't stopped her from calling Bella every evening to tell her goodnight. How long this particular disagreement would continue was a question that bothered him more than he knew he should let on to either Katrina or Jenny. As much as he loved Katrina and valued Jenny's friendship, they weren't Abbie. They didn't understand some of the things he'd been through over the years with Bella. She'd been there through everything, not to mention all the ways she'd saved his life over the past eight years.

As he stopped at a red light, he wiped his hand down his face and adjusted his back.

The transition from the sofa to Katrina's old bed had been a relief, but it still wasn't his own and, no matter how hard he tried, he never seemed to be able to find a comfortable position. He was crammed in his office with his desk pushed to the side and a dozen boxes scattered and stacked on the floor around it. Of course, Katrina had protested his decision to allow her to remain in his room, but his argument had been that she should have the room with the bathroom as she needed it more.

"Look, daddy, look!" Bella squealed from the back seat. "I can see it!"

Nodding his head, he made a turn onto the next street. "I see, Bells."

"Are Aunt Abbie and Jenny already there?"

"I'm sure they are," he answered with a small glance at Katrina to see her eyes dart out the window.

Sucking in a deep breath, he squeezed her hand. This was going to be an interesting evening for sure. Anything short of murder would be a relief in his opinion.

"Yes!" Bella exclaimed, her happiness evident. "Aunt Abbie rides all of the fast rides because daddy's scared of them."

"Is he?" Katrina asked, her smile returning.

"Mhm. Aunt Jenny is, too, even though she won't say so."

It was tradition for everyone to go to the fair together. Since Bella was born, they'd gone every year upon Abbie's insistence that he needed to have traditions to pass down to his daughter. Granted, these weren't the sorts of traditions he would have had in mind, but they made Bella happy nonetheless.

"Alright," he said as he shut the car off. "No running off."

"I know, daddy," she groaned as she unbuckled herself.

Shaking his head, he stepped out of the car and opened her door before leveling her with the most serious gaze he could muster. "Yes, sir, will do just fine as well, Bella."

She avoided his eyes and muttered a low, "Yes, sir."

As he took her hand and helped her out, she once again began looking around. "Where are they?"

"We'll meet them by the ticket booth," he answered as Katrina came around the car, her eyes mimicking Bella's as they took everything in.

With a smile, she took Bella's other hand.

"Alright, do you have everything?"

He really didn't want to have to walk all the way back out here.

Bella nodded as she began tugging on their hands. "Yep, let's go!"

A mild apprehension washed over him as he considered this was the first time he'd see Abbie since their fallout. He only hoped they could all remain cordial for Bella's sake. She was so excited to have them all together and he just wasn't sure he could tolerate any disappointments delved toward her from either Abbie or Katrina this evening. They were all adults. He just hoped everyone could act as such and remember that the little girl they all loved was the most important person this evening. Everyone else's issues would have to take a back seat.

Katrina's reactions to all the lights and rides was amusing in and of itself. As she took everything in, he watched her face form a mixture of expressions he couldn't even place name to.

Leaning close, he asked, "Overwhelmed?"

She shook her head. "No, it's just..."

"A little different than our festivals?"

Her smile brightened as she chuckled and turned to him. "Just a little."

"There they are!" Bella squealed as she let go of their hands and darted straight ahead. "Aunt Abbie!"

Eyes following the rambunctious little person running through the throngs of people, he watched as Abbie knelt to greet Bella before glancing at Katrina who had paused, her steps ceasing completely.

Well... this is where it would begin.

Taking her hand, he brought it to his lips. "It's going to be fine."

Her eyes, full of doubt, came to his. "I think you're being a little too optimistic."

"No," he replied as he began leading her toward the others. "I'm demanding it."

As he did his best to keep her hand in his, he cast her another encouraging smile before turning to Abbie.

"Abbie," he said with a nod. "It's good to see you."

Her dark eyes flickered between them, seemingly absorbing everything at once. He hated how she could do that. Just one look from her made him feel like she knew his every secret thought. What's worse, when she seemed disapproving, no matter what it was, she had a way of making him feel as though he were in the wrong. Granted, he generally _was_ the one in the wrong, but this time things were different.

"Yeah, you, too."

There were a great deal more things he wanted to say to her, but Bella bouncing between all of them reminded him of his own promise to keep the focus on her.

"So, what are we riding first?" Jenny asked as she took Bella's hand. "Or are we getting something to eat so you can puke everywhere?"

"Eww, no way." Bella shook her head with an upturned nose. "The carousal!"

As the two shot off, he, Katrina, and Abbie followed.

"Did you have a nice trip to Washington?" he asked, hoping to break the wall of ice between he and his dearest friend.

"It was ok." Katrina's hand squeezed his at the clipped response. "How about you? Good week?"

"I can't complain," he answered, nodding his head side to side. "Mr. Billings is still breathing down my neck."

Abbie smiled, settling a bit of relief in his chest. "Thought of anything, yet?"

"Not a thing." He shook his head as Bella and Jenny got on side by side horses. "I've been a little preoccupied."

"Mhm." Abbie leaned over the railing and waved at Bella as she waited for the ride to start. "How's Betsy?"

A prickly sensation tickled his back as Katrina's hand became the only thing he could feel. Clearing his throat, he answered, "I imagine she's busy with school."

Abbie shook her head as she turned to them, propping her elbow on the railing as her eyes inspected them like two bugs about to meet a boot. "That's not what I hear. I hear she's pissed as hell."

"And how do you know that?"

"Because she called me," Abbie answered matter of factly. "She thinks you're under some kind of..." Her eyes narrowed at Katrina. "Spell."

The bristle of Katrina's body next to his was enough to let him know she was about to react.

"You'd love to believe that, wouldn't you?" Katrina asked, her voice cutting. "You just can't accept that I'm Ichabod's wife and Bella's mother."

"Are you?" Abbie asked, standing to her full height. "Last I recall, you tried to kill him. He might not have been there, but I watched you join forces with Abraham and try to murder him." Abbie raised an eyebrow. "As for Bella, how many diapers did you change? How many sleepless nights did you stay up with her while she cried through teething and nightmares, through hours spent at the ER because of her earaches?"

"Stop, Abbie," he begged. "This isn't the time or place-"

"You want nothing more than an excuse to put me back in that cell," Katrina growled. "You don't even care to see if I've changed or not."

"You're damn right." Abbie narrowed her eyes. "It's where a murderer like you belongs. The things you did don't warrant second chances."

Lifting a hand between them, he tried to cut in, "Please, don't-"

"I've never murdered anyone," Katrina bit, thrusting a finger in Abbie's direction. "Unlike _you_."

Abbie's eyebrows shot up. "You call putting that evil son of a bitch down, murder? Are you kidding me?"

Katrina stepped forward, forcing him to lay a hand to her arm to stop her. "Katrina," he warned. "Don't."

Her eyes turned to him, dark and angry. If he didn't know any better, he'd say she was on the verge of losing her control.

"Please, think about Bella," he whispered.

As her gaze turned to a passing Bella, who was waving at them, he turned to Abbie. "You've both said enough for tonight. Neither one of you are being fair to each other and I've had it. Tonight is for Bella because she loves both of you dearly. I would hope you could both keep your insults to yourself for _one_ night."

Katrina shook her head as she turned to walk away.

"Katrina-"

"I just need a minute," she said as she looked back at him. "Please."

Sucking in a deep breath as he nodded and watched her disappear, he turned to Abbie. "Must you?"

Abbie crossed her arms. "What do you want me to do, Crane? Fall to my knees and kiss her ass like you do?"

"She hasn't done anything to warrant such hostility."

"Oh?" Abbie asked, her eyebrows raised. "Tell that to the half of Sleepy Hollow she was prepared to sacrifice to her cause."

"Damn it, Abbie," he whispered as he leaned over the railing and placed his face in his hands. "She's changed."

A moment's pause stilled the air between them until he felt her lean down next to him. "I know how badly you want to believe that."

"I do believe it," he replied as he looked to her. "I believe it, Abbie. Do you think I'd jeopardize Bella by letting someone in her life that might hurt her?"

Abbie shrugged as her eyes ventured to the carousal. "I think the only person who comes close to holding as much of your heart as Bella could easily slip through your defenses." Abbie looked back at him. "She's certainly knows how."

"Abbie," he whispered. "I love her."

"I know," she answered. "And that's why you can't see what she's doing. That's why it's ok to admit your weak. That's why I'm here. To protect you when you can't protect yourself."

Eyes falling closed, he admitted, "You know I trust your instincts Abbie and, maybe you're even right, but I made a promise to her; a promise to give her a fair chance."

"And Bella?" Abbie asked. "Is she getting a fair chance?"

Lifting his head, he looked at Abbie. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Abbie gestured to Bella. "Is this all for Bella, or is it for you?"

"Bella loves her mother." He stood straighter. "Can't you see that?"

"Of course, I can," Abbie agreed. "And she deserves to have her mother. She deserves that happiness."

"Then, why are you actively doing your best to agitate her mother?"

"Because if she can't take a little agitation, what good is any of this? What true challenges have you given to see if she's changed?" Abbie shook her head. "All the coddling and sweet whispers you give her aren't doing a damn bit of good in proving anything, Ichabod. If you're not challenging her, not watching her, how do you know if she's changed? Anyone can put on a show when they're living like a queen."

Swallowing against the knot in his throat, he answered, "What would you have me do? Pretend I don't love her? I tried to do that and failed." He glanced in the direction she'd gone. "I'm doing what I feel is right, Abbie. Why can't you trust _me_?"

"Because you've never once given me a reason to think you can make the hard choices where Katrina is concerned."

The knot in his throat grew, leaving him to nod his head as he backed away. "I need to go find her."

* * *

He found her at the edge of the park, leaning over the fence as she stared out over the river. The evening sunlight made her hair look vibrant as it illuminated the sky in front of her. Given better circumstances or any other day where he might have thought her at peace, he'd have left her alone and allowed himself the luxury of observing her. Circumstances, however, weren't on his side.

Quietly approaching her, he settled next to her, his own eyes on the water.

"Have you returned to doubting me again?"

Her soft question practically begged for his gaze to seek her out. "No."

A small nod was all he received as she looked down into the water.

Perfect. The whole evening felt ruined. Everything had been so lighthearted between them and now the suffocating weight of their past was now once again pressing into him.

"I wish I had better memories of him," he whispered, needing a common thread on which to begin. "When I think of our son, I have nothing good to latch onto as a means to help me defend him. All I have is the knowledge that we created him and _how_ we created him. Sometimes, I wonder how so much love can be poured into a creation only to have it become so..."

Had his son been wholly evil? Misguided? Lost?

"Loneliness, hate, ridicule." She shook her head. "Beatings and cursings. Darkness and hunger. Coldness. Thirst." Her eyes found his, filled to the brim with tears. "Those were the only things he had, the only things he felt for two _hundred_ years."

"You were alone for two hundred years," he countered.

"But I wasn't," she argued. "I had your love. I had my mother's love to guide me. I knew what it felt like to love and be loved. I had hope to have it again. Can the same be said for him? Was he ever allowed such a luxury?"

Unable to hold her gaze, he shifted and allowed his eyes to fall to the water.

"I know no greater joy than the first time I held him," she whispered. "Such an innocent little thing. He cried and wiggled in my arms; his small face red and warm."

"I wish I could have seen him, then." He reached to take her hand, the night air having chilled it. "Sometimes, I just want to go home. I want us to be normal and... wake up every day to our son and daughter."

"I wish that, too."

"Do you realize they'd have been about a year apart?" He smiled, sadness for what he considered a lost life sweeping over him. "Had circumstances been different."

"How do you figure that?"

Running a finger across her cheek, he answered, "If you take away Purgatory and my sleep and add how long after our reunion it took to conceive Bella, then, it's only seven months between his birth and her conception."

"It's nice to think they may have been close."

"Bella would have loved a brother," he chuckled. "Someone to boss around."

"Maybe she'll have one someday."

Eyes flickering to hers, he found her staring at him with a small smile and what he'd like to call a small measure of hope. There was so much there he wanted to touch on at some point, but now was hardly the time or place. "Maybe."

Ever so slowly, however, her smile faded as she admitted, "When I first came to live with you in the cabin, I was committed to you, to starting over with you, but it didn't take long for me to lose my way."

"Why?"

"Because I lacked focus. I had no one and nothing to keep me alive. Everything I'd known had faded away and even you had changed; adapted; made friends who gave you a purpose. I had no purpose." A hard swallow accompanied the bob of her head as her eyes fell. "You were the only thing I wanted and every time you looked at me all I saw was doubt and regret."

"Katrina..."

"Soon, I realized that the only person who shared the same discontent as me with the way things were was Abraham and I suppose it didn't take long for me to fall into the spell of helping him; of making amends. I found a purpose."

It rubbed him all sorts of wrong to hear her speak of Abraham in any other way than a disdain filled tone.

"If you had restored Abraham, do you think that would have been enough?" He tilted her face so he could see her eyes. "Abraham would still have wanted you; would have sought you out. He'd have never given you a moment's rest."

The way her eyes darted every which way told him he wasn't going to like what came next.

"As much as I know it will hurt you, I won't lie," she admitted, her eyes finally resting on his shirt. "It was a draw because, at least, Abraham showed genuine interest, not borne of obligation. Even if his thinking was possessive and skewed, at least, he'd wanted me."

Taking her hand, he kissed her knuckles. "I've always wanted you."

"Ichabod..." she whispered, her doubt slapping him. "You could barely stand to be in the same room as me."

"That's not true," he protested, even as his own words faltered in sincerity. "I just... lost the knowledge of how to talk to you and we became disconnected." He pressed his forehead to hers. "The secrets that came between us. They broke my heart, too, but, you were right, they didn't reflect our love." He rubbed his nose against her cheek, inhaling her scent. "The love was always there. We just lost the way to show it."

Her fingers crept up his sides as she turned her face into his neck. "This week, I've felt more connected to you than I have since before Abraham stole you from me on the battlefield." She kissed his skin. "I never want to be without this again."

"You won't be," he whispered as he pulled back to see her eyes. "At least, not because of my doing."

Her brow furrowed as she leaned away from him. "You still doubt me."

"No," he quickly replied, taking her face between his hands. "Every day, I trust you a little more. I just..." He shook his head. "Abbie-"

"Hates me," she answered, pulling away from him.

"No," he argued as his hands fell to his sides. "She's wary of you and thinks you have ulterior motives. She thinks I'm not challenging your intentions enough."

Her head bobbed as she turned to look out over the water. "Do you agree?"

"In a way," he reluctantly admitted. "But I'm not sure how I'm supposed to further challenge you."

"I didn't snap Betsy Ross's neck for touching you."

A chuckle bubbled from his chest at that. "I suppose that's something, but..."

"But what?" she asked, turning back to him, no amusement present in her features.

"I think Abbie's point is that if you're just playing a game and don't actually love me, then it's easy for you to say that about Betsy as you don't really care what I did with her."

"It makes me sick to think you've touched someone else; to think you enjoyed her touching you." Frustration practically seeped from her as she thrust a finger at him. "You imagined Abraham touching me. How did that make you feel again?"

"Katrina," he whispered, taking her hand. "I believe you. I just... I understand where Abbie's coming from. Surely, you can, too?"

"I didn't burn her where she stood," she admitted a little too harshly for him to swallow. "I don't think there's any doubting my hatred for her."

A knot lodged in his throat. "Katrina-"

"If I can control myself," she cut in. "If I can accept her in my daughter's life, that should be proof enough that I am doing everything within my power to put the past in the past."

Swallowing against the knot, he conceded to that as he knew it to be the truest example she could have given. "Alright."

Her fingers squeezed his. "I love you, Ichabod, and I just really hope you know that I _am_ trying."

With a heavy sigh, he pressed his forehead to hers. "I know, my love."

* * *

"The Ferris Wheel!" Bella squealed as she saw them. "Daddy, it's the Ferris Wheel!"

The crowd was thick and bustling, but he managed to slip he and Katrina through to join the others in line.

"I didn't think you were going to come," Bella groaned, her arms crossing over each other as she frowned at him.

"Of course, we were coming." He nodded to Jenny. "She texted us."

"Good," Jenny started. "Now that you're here, the two of you can take our places and we'll go find some cotton candy."

"Ooh, get me some," Bella begged. "The pink kind."

"You got it, kiddo."

As Jenny walked off to join her sister, who was waiting a few dozen feet away with arms crossed and an accompanying scowl, he sighed and turned to Bella. "Are you having fun?"

"So much!" Bella pointed at Abbie. "See the bear I won with the water guns?"

"I see that," he chuckled as he lifted her up. "How did you get so good at shooting?"

"The Wii, daddy."

"Right," he muttered as he rolled his eyes. "I guess that's why I always lose. You practice more than me."

Bella's giggle drew Katrina's out, too.

"So, this is the Ferris Wheel?" Katrina asked as she tilted her head back. "It's very tall."

"Are you scared?" Bella looked from Karina to the ride. "It's not that scary."

"Oh, no, on the contrary." Katrina smiled. "I'm rather excited to see Sleepy Hollow from the sky."

"Next up!"

"That's us, daddy!" She began wiggling out of his arms. "Let's go."

As she took to darting up the steps, he shook his head. "So much energy."

Katrina chuckled as she followed Bella. "Keep up, daddy."

"I'm sitting in the middle," Bella proclaimed as she took her seat. "I'm the littlest."

As Katrina took a seat on her other side, he replied, "No such word exists."

Bella rolled her eyes as she groaned. "No lessons, today, daddy."

He laughed as he pulled the bar down to lock the chair in place. Turning to Katrina, he found her glancing around at the swaying seat rather nervously.

Laying his arm along the back of the seat, he wove his fingers through the hair at her neck, effectively pulling her gaze to his. Giving her a reassuring smile, he said, "I'm glad you're here this time."

A soft smile came to her face. "Me, too."

The ride suddenly jolted forward, signaling the beginning of their ascent to allow the next person to get situated.

"Oh," Katrina murmured as she gripped the bar. "This is..."

He remembered the first time he'd ridden this ride. It had scared the living daylights out of him. He'd been on it with Abbie as Jenny had held Bella below in watch. The whole time, he'd asked when it would be over. In his opinion, Abbie had taken far too much amusement out of the whole ordeal.

"A little worrisome at first?"

Katrina shot him a nervous smile. "A little."

"Don't worry," he assured as he scratched his fingers along the back of her neck. "It's really not so bad."

"Mhm," she murmured as she leaned over the side and looked down as they ascended a little further.

"Yeah, mommy, it's fun."

By the time they were at the top, he was sure Katrina was going to hyperventilate.

"Look," he whispered as he leaned over Bella to speak in her ear. "You can see where your family once resided."

Lifting his hand, he pointed toward the other side of the river where the trees had overgrown.

He was granted a gentle smile.

"That was so long ago."

"Daddy," Bella squealed as she pulled at his shirt. "Look, I can see my school."

"Yes, I see that," he answered as he watched Bella's excitement grow. "But look at that."

He pointed his finger upward. "The stars seem brighter up here."

As Bella's head fell back, Katrina stared out over the Hudson toward the place he'd pointed out moments before hand. There was a reminiscent spirit about her, one he couldn't deny. The times he fell into such states had the potential to make him glad of the memory or fall into regret for the lost life.

Considering the latter to most likely be on her mind, he couldn't help but reach out and touch her. Running his fingers over her cheek, he felt his chest swell with pride when she turned to him, her gold-green eyes glistening.

"Thank you for sharing this with me."

Unable to stop himself, he leaned over and brushed his lips against hers.

"Eww," Bella groaned as she covered her eyes. "Cooties!"

With a chuckle, he poked Bella in the ribs. "Always think that."

* * *

"Daddy?" Bella murmured sleepily. "Where's Bob?"

Easing her into her bed, he whispered, "Mommy's bringing him."

As she drifted back off to sleep, he wiped some of her sticky hair away from her face. The car ride home had seen her falling asleep with her hand still lodged in a bag of cotton candy.

"Where do you want him?" Katrina asked softly as she padded over to stand beside him.

"Here."

Loathe as he was to admit it, the little bundle of fur in Katrina's arms had brought Bella far more happiness than anything he'd gotten her for her last birthday. The puppy, a small weenie dog, seemingly as tired as Bella, curled up in the blankets at her side and never moved again.

"I'll go get her other things out of the car."

"Alright," he whispered with a smile before turning back to Bella and her puppy.

Bob was the name he'd received as soon as Bella had picked him up. Where she'd gotten the name was lost on him, but it seemed there was no talking her out of it. The livestock section of the fair was one he was going to avoid next year lest he end up with a pony due to Bella's begging and Katrina's encouragement of it.

After making sure she was asleep, he quietly left her room and pulled the door shut.

It had been a very long day, one to which he was ready to say farewell.

Trudging over to the sofa, he collapsed upon it and leaned his head back. The Ferris Wheel had been the last peaceful moment of the night. Thankfully, while there was still tension, they'd been able to spend the rest of the evening with some measure of normalcy, even if Abbie and Katrina had avoided even looking in each other's directions for the duration of the outing.

Maybe, with time, he hoped everyone would become used to one another.

Lifting a hand to his face, he chuckled and thought, _not likely_.

As he shifted to find a better position, he stirred up the smell of his clothes and body. The stickiness from the candy apple he'd had earlier along with Bella's cotton candy were enough to prompt the urge to take a shower. However, he wasn't sure he had the energy to even walk that far.

"Tired?"

Katrina's voice pulled his gaze to find her pushing the door shut and locking it.

"Very."

Her smile was contagious as she set Bella's bag by the door and made her way over to him.

However, instead of feeling the seat beside him sink, he wound up with a lap full of Katrina.

"Maybe a massage would help," she whispered as she settled her thighs on either side of his, effectively making herself at home.

That, added with her hands sliding up and over his shoulders, had him more alert than previously.

"What did you have in mind?" he asked, his hands finding her hips as he continued to relax his head against the back of the sofa.

"Oh, I don't know," she teased with a sly grin. "Why don't you take your shirt off and we'll see what happens?"

Raising an eyebrow, he said, "I doubt there would be anything relaxing about one of us removing our clothing."

"Hmm, I disagree." Her hair tickled his neck as she hovered over him. "I think with a little time and a little work, we could both end up very, _very_ relaxed."

The naughty tone to her voice along with her gentle push against his groin had his pants stirring. It was just sexy enough to make him forget the fact that he smelled and felt like he'd swam in a bag of cotton candy.

"Katrina..."

His warning was left in the dust as her mouth slid over his, leaving him bereft of any protests as the slick heat that accompanied her tongue became his only concern.

"Mmm," he moaned as she moved over him, her hips easing into a slight sway against his.

If she was trying to break down his willpower, she was doing a fantastic job of it.

Fingers tangling in her hair, he held her in place and tilted his head to meet her from a better angle, allowing his own tongue to make its way through her lips. The sweet remnants of cotton candy occasionally met his taste causing him to smile into their kiss.

"You taste rather sweet," he murmured against her lips, just barely giving himself enough room to speak before returning to the tastes he'd been enjoying.

Her response came through a small chuckle as her fingers wove through his hair, twisting through it playfully.

If he could bottle this moment and keep it forever as a means to show everyone how innocent she could be, how playful and kind, he'd do it in a heartbeat. This was what everyone had always tended to miss about Katrina, both now and when she was still bearing her maiden name of van Tassel. It was the little things that made her happy; moments rather than objects. The serious way she always held herself faded to the background and she became a young woman full of life and wonder.

Breaths coming heavier between them now, he felt his blood pressure go through the roof when her fingers began scratching along his abdomen over the hem of his pants.

When had they ever gotten under his shirt?

Then, there it was.

Her hand found its destination inside his pants.

Nearly jumping off the sofa, he groaned, "Katrina..."

There was little use in protesting at this point as she had him well in hand.

Falling back against the sofa, his eyes sought out her workings and he nearly keeled over at the sight of her hand moving inside his jeans. However, she barely gave him any time to admire her work as she found his lips again, her kiss insistent.

Lifting both hands, he cupped her face and pulled her closer, swallowing her taste and allowing it to settle along his tongue.

"This is getting a little out of hand..." he whispered, his voice shaken.

Gold-green met steel blue as she pulled back, a sly smile on her lips as she took to trailing them over his cheek where her voice met his ear. "The temptation was too difficult to resist."

"I see." There was a deep regret on his part when her hand left his lap and resumed its previous place on his chest. "Temptation, indeed."

Laughter shook her body as she sat back on his legs and leveled her gaze on him. "You sounded as though I were torturing you."

"I believe you were," he replied, his eyes narrowed. "You're out to kill me." The smile touching her lips brought out his own. "I really should get to bed. Monday's are the worst."

A sigh slipped between her lips as she nodded and stood. Then, taking his hands, she pulled him to his feet.

"You could stay with me, tonight. I swear, I'll behave."

The tinge of hope in her voice was hard to resist. However, sleeping with Katrina was hardly something he could do if he intended to get some sleep. He'd spend half the night too excited over actually having the opportunity to share a bed with her. It'd be like that first week of marriage all over again what with his bewilderment over actually having her as his in the first place.

"As wonderful as that sounds..." He threaded their fingers together and began leading her toward her bedroom. "I really do have to sleep."

"And you would," she replied, determination fueling her voice. "I'd make sure of it even if I had to knock you out with a spell."

"Knock me out?" He cast her a raised eyebrow. "That sounds terribly romantic."

"Ichabod..." she groaned as she crossed her arms and allowed her head to fall back.

Unable to help his grin, he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck. "You look just like Bella when you do that."

A sound akin to frustration bubbled from her throat as she pushed him away. "You're so aggravating."

Instead of replying, he just stood there and watched her glare at him.

In truth, their banter made him feel lighter. Too much of their time was spent knee deep in emotional turmoil and tension. He enjoyed these moments of levity between them.

"Fine," she finally whispered, uncrossing her arms and reaching for the door. "Go be all alone in your cramped office. You snore anyway."

Not about to let her have the last word, he reached out and spun her to press into him.

"I'll have you know, my lady, that I, in fact, do not snore. I just breathe heavily. You, on the other hand..."

Her eyes widened as her hand met his arm with a sting. " _Ichabod_!"

"Shh," he whispered, placing his finger to her lips. "If you wake Bella, neither of us will be getting any sleep."

Her huff conjured his grin. Pressing into her, he replaced his finger with his lips and took to silencing her in altogether different manner.

When her hands relaxed over his shoulders, he said, "I truly _do_ wish to stay with you."

Gold-green flickered to him. "Nothing's stopping you."

He weighed his options while doing his best to calm his racing heart. What would it really hurt? They were husband and wife. It wouldn't be wrong or immoral and they would just be sleeping.

"The first time you snore, I'm leaving."

A brief expression of surprise crossed her face before it was replaced with a grin. "Really?"

"Yes, but, Katrina-"

Before he could get the words out, she'd already opened the door and pulled him through it, her excitement evident.

Unable to help his chuckle, he said, "I have to take a shower first. I feel quite ill kempt."

"Alright," she said, already busy pulling back the covers and rearranging the pillows.

Shifting his feet, he felt his nerves catching up to him. So, with a sigh, he grabbed a pair of pants and headed for the bathroom.

However, not two minutes into his shower, he heard the door open.

"Katrina?"

"Don't worry, I'm not here to molest you. I'm just brushing my teeth."

Rolling his eyes, he eyed her silhouette through the shower door, seeing that she was doing just that.

"Color me relieved."

While listening to the sink run, he idly washed his body as he watched her head bob back and forth. A smile settled over his lips as he considered how many times he'd watched her wash her face before bed in the small basin in their room. That all seemed so long ago, like another life.

"All done."

Clearing his throat, he replied, "I'll just be another minute."

As the door shut, he turned off the water and reached for his towel, feeling much better now that he wasn't so sticky.

After brushing his own teeth, he paused and considered himself in the mirror.

The jagged scar running down his chest was a reminder of the life he'd left behind centuries ago; of the wife and child he'd unintentionally abandoned.

The various other scars here and there over his body were reminders of the new life he'd found here in this time; of the wars he'd faced and the future he'd preserved with each one.

Gaze drifting further, he took in his abdomen, not as tight as it'd been before, but still presentable enough. Should he have grabbed a shirt as well? Perhaps, sleeping bare-chested was a bit much for their first night, especially considering their desire to just sleep and not partake of any... other activities.

Rolling his eyes, he shook his head and reached for the door. It didn't matter. He wasn't getting any sleep either way.

She was already in bed, the covers pulled high enough that he wasn't even sure of what she was wearing.

"Are you alright?"

When she sat up, he felt relief wash through him at the t-shirt shirt she adorned.

Good, he thought. At least, she wasn't wearing anything too revealing.

"Uh, yes," he quickly replied as he made his way toward her. "I just-"

As he stood beside the bed, he felt himself doubting the wisdom of this.

"Ichabod," she whispered, her fingers wrapping around his hand. "It's alright, my love."

The kindness shining in her eyes was enough to cause his head to bob in the affirmative. "I-I know, I'm just..." He gave a thin smile. "I missed you."

Her eyes softened as she tugged him to sit beside her. "I'm here with you, now."

"Yes and..." He shook his head. "It's just that this is different than before. It's..."

"Real," she finished, a small smile on her lips. "We want to be here with one another... as we did in our home all those years ago."

Eyes falling from hers, he released a heavy sigh and nodded. "My heart is trying to escape my chest."

Her cool fingers rested over his heart. "It's not near as fast as it was on our wedding night."

A chuckle shook him. "I thought I'd surely perish before I undid the first lace."

"But you didn't," she whispered, her fingers now on his cheek to turn him to face her. "Everything you did, every word you said, made me feel more cherished than anything that had come before you."

She was so beautiful, inside and out.

Leaning in to brush his lips to hers, he allowed himself to relax in her embrace, to trust in her care.

Before long, he'd relented and laid down with her over him, her lips still caressing his. Legs tangled and hands gently roaming, they rested against one another, the heat between them comfortable; familiar.

"I still remember how it felt the first time I kissed you," he whispered, gently drawing his face from hers. "It felt magical."

Her eyes flickered to his as she smiled. "Well..."

Chuckling, he adjusted himself to wrap his arm around her back and hold her against his side. "Yes, yes, you surely spelled me."

"Surely," she replied with a roll of her eyes. "I suppose I made your eyes stick like glue to me every time we were in each other's company as well."

Fingers brushing her hair over her ear, he whispered, "I was just thinking earlier how much you've changed this week."

Her brow knit. "Changed?"

With a shrug of his shoulders, he answered, "I suppose that's the wrong word. I should say you've reminded me more of the person you were before the war."

She propped her head in her hand as she stared down at him, her eyes full of curiosity. "In what way?"

"Well, you're..." He chuckled, unable to hold her gaze for fear he was being ridiculous. "You seem lighter, like less of the world is on your shoulders." The right words seemed to be eluding him. "I mean... You seem more like the Katrina van Tassel I fell in love with." He lifted his eyes to her. "You have joy in your eyes and laughter."

A small smile touched her lips as she pressed her fingers along his chest. "My joy has indeed returned to me. For so long before we married, I spent my days with a thousand tasks to keep me busy. I held a position that allowed me to help people, to heal them." She bobbed her head side to side. "And, of course, my other position no one knew about was always evolving."

"You loved your work," he whispered, his eyes fixed on her roaming ones.

"I did, but you and Bella... you've given my life back, my purpose." She smiled. "I just... there's so much for me to share with you about those years. I couldn't before, but now... I just want you to know all that happened, everything I did during the war that mirrored what you were doing."

With a sigh, he ran his fingers over her cheek. "I'll be glad to hear it all, my fierce, little witch."

The way her lips curved spoke of the rightness of his words.

"I suppose I should allow you your sleep," she whispered as she snuggled into his neck.

Wiggling into the mattress, he took her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

As the room fell silent, his mind began to process her warmth against him. It had been a very long time since they'd been this way. Even in the short time they'd been reunited and even found the instance to create Bella, they'd never been quite so close; so intimate.

Just as his eyes closed, he heard the faintest sound come from her; a short little intake of breath that stirred the quiet of the room.

Smiling, he shook his head.

He'd be recording her one day for sure as his witness to her snoring.

* * *

 **Next up: Trouble. Suspicions possibly confirmed.**


	12. Chapter 12

Most days, if he'd forgotten something at home, he'd have been right livid with himself. The car ride home would have been filled with a curse here and there, a hand or two slapping the steering wheel, and maybe even a foot stomp due to his lack of remembrance. Bella would have called it a tantrum and he'd have been forced to agree.

Today, though, he found he didn't quite mind. In fact, he even wondered if he'd subconsciously done it on purpose. For a while now, he'd not had anything so alluring as to make him anxious to return home with the swiftness he was now using. Katrina was enough of a lure that he thought he might have to bring his work home more often.

The taste of her lips had become somewhat of an addiction; the kind for which he hoped no cure would ever be found. Then, there was the increase to how close they'd become over the past few weeks. It was like a breath of fresh air to be so open with her; to begin to understand the inner workings of her mind; to how she felt about certain things and why she'd made so many of the choices she had.

In return for the growing feelings between them was the physical aspect to their love. More and more, he found himself desperate for her. The way she touched him, her every caress setting him ablaze, left him frustrated in more than one way.

Every night had become a struggle to maintain the vow he'd made to himself the night he'd decided to accept her; the vow to keep their relationship from that ultimate completion until they were truly ready. Sex was something he loved and it was something he wanted only with Katrina. However, he simply didn't want them to become so involved in the sex that they never actually talked of the how's and why's. That reason was the idea behind waiting. He intended to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he and Katrina could make this new family of theirs last for a lifetime before taking that final step in reigniting their marriage.

The problem was that an idea was just that: an idea. Actually lying in bed with Katrina at night, her body warm and firm against his, was another matter altogether. It took every ounce of willpower he imagined he possessed to keep his hands from roaming too far, too fast.

As he pushed the front door open, the scent of the vanilla candles lit on the kitchen counter mixed with the leftover smells from breakfast captured his attention and reminded him that he'd yet to eat lunch.

"Katrina?"

No answer.

Setting his briefcase on the sofa table, he ran a hand through his hair and wondered where she could have gotten off to without letting him know.

It wasn't that he wished to keep tabs on her so much as they seemed to be in constant contact via text message. Of late, Katrina had taken more warmly to the idea of the modern means of communication and had allowed Bella to take her through a tutorial of the various uses of her iPhone, which, to his delight, had been very amusing to watch.

Needless to say, since she'd learned she could voice her any thought to him with a few taps here and there, no matter where he was, she did it more often than he would have guessed her capable.

The last he'd heard of her, she was cleaning up the kitchen and wondering where the strainer was kept when not in use.

"Odd," he murmured, opening the refrigerator and pulling out a bottle of water.

However, before he could get it open, Bob was suddenly scurrying around his feet, the little ball of energy seeking the kind of attention he wasn't in the mood to give.

"I believe you have your wires crossed, Bob," he greeted as he eased the puppy away from his pants leg with the tip of his shoe. "If you recall, you and I are not friends."

Since Bella had brought the puppy home, they'd had one ordeal after another.

The corner of the couch had been destroyed, his best boots chewed, poop and pee in every room. How such a small creature could wreck so much havoc was beyond his imagining... and he could imagine a great deal.

Katrina, bless her soul, did her best to take the puppy out as much as possible, but the stubborn fur ball would stand at the door whining until let back inside. Then, without hardly a minute passing, it would relieve itself anywhere it knew it shouldn't.

Due to his attempt at teaching Bella a lesson in responsibility, he'd been forcing her to clean up the messes that weren't too horrible. However, he'd learned that when it came to his daughter and her attempts at cleaning, he was better off finding another area to teach responsibility as she tended to make most of the messes worse than they'd started.

Not having any luck tearing the puppy from his pants leg, he set his water bottle down in order to reach for him, but he was halted by a light crackling noise behind his bedroom door.

"Katrina?" he called, a little louder than earlier. "Are you here?"

The door became a sort of draw to him as he found himself moving toward it. As he neared, he noticed it already cracked open and took hold of the knob to push it wide enough to walk through.

Her name was nearly out of his lips before the scent of something burning caught his nose and stopped him, the sight before him holding his feet like cement blocks in the doorway.

Blood dripped from between her fingers as she held her hand out over a bowl, various herbs and candles set out about her in a circle.

Magic had become somewhat of a common occurrence in their household of late. However, this wasn't the regular sort of spell he usually walked in on her teaching Bella. This was different.

It was blood magic.

Memories of milky white eyes accompanying the dark magic she'd used in her attempt to kill him surfaced, choking him under their weight.

The step he took back wasn't even a conscious choice. It was instinct, pure and raw. He had to get out before she saw him; before she knew he'd discovered her.

However, before he could fully get out the door, Bob had scurried past him toward her cross-legged position on the floor.

The moment her head began turning, he spun and bolted for the front door.

* * *

"And you don't know what the spell was?"

Head in his hands, he slouched over Abbie's desk, all his dreams in ashes.

"I don't-" His voice trembled as he shook his head. "I don't understand."

"It's gonna be okay."

Snapping his head up, he met his friend's eyes. " _Okay_? My wife has betrayed me again. How is that okay, Abbie?"

"I know it's hard to accept," she went on, her hand laying over his. "You wanted this to work for Bella and you."

"We have to put her back," he whispered, hardly able to believe he was uttering such words. "I just- she's too powerful. We'll never manage to get near her."

"We'll figure it out just like we always have."

"It'll crush, Bella," he began, only to snap his head up as his daughter's name sparked a thought. "Bella. I have to pick her up from school. If Katrina knows I saw her-"

"I'll drive," Abbie said, already grabbing her keys and heading for the door.

* * *

"I'm sorry, Mr. Crane, but your wife checked your daughter out fifteen minutes ago." The elderly secretary pushed her glasses up her nose. "She was on the list of people who could check her out."

The woman looked worried she'd done something wrong.

"Did she mention anything about where she was going next?"

The secretary looked between them with a confused expression. "I didn't think it my business to ask."

The last ounce of strength he had left him as he sunk to the floor against the large desk. "She's gone..." He stared blankly ahead. "Bella's... I'll never see her again."

"Crane-"

"I trusted her, Abbie." His body began to shake, his circumstances overtaking his rational thoughts and leaving him with panic. "She said she loved me. She said she wanted to be with me."

"She manipulated you," Abbie whispered, her hand on his arm. "But none of that matters because we're not going to stop until we find Bella." She patted his shoulder encouragingly. "Now, get up."

"Abbie-"

"We don't have time for you to fall apart. We're going to your house to see if we can find anything that might tell us where she would have taken her."

Despite his urge to protest, he pushed himself up and fell into step behind his friend, certain his life was at its end.

* * *

"There's nothing amiss," he said, his eyes combing Bella's room. "Everything's just as she left it this morning." He picked up Trigger and held the stuffed animal close. "This isn't right. Katrina knows how much Bella loves this thing."

Abbie continued to look around the room. "I doubt she had time to make a clear cut plan."

"No," he whispered, his eyes on the dresser, taking in all of Bella's favorite things. "That's not Katrina. She wouldn't have left this."

"Crane, I think you're putting a little too much stock in knowing how Katrina thinks."

"Abbie-"

"Daddy?" His and Abbie's heads snapped toward the hallway as the front door closed. "Where are you?"

"Bella," he whispered, as he began running toward the other room, his heart thudding in his chest.

As he rounded the corner, he found Katrina helping Bella out of her coat as she balanced an ice cream cone in her other hand.

"Bella, you're-" He tried to assess the situation, but couldn't find the words. "You're here."

He quickly made his way toward her and all but collapsed to his knees before pulling her into his arms, relief flooding his system at having her close and safe.

"What's wrong, daddy?" Bella asked, her small hands cupping his face as she stared at him. "Did you stub your toe?"

"No," he chuckled, while smoothing a hand over her hair. "I-"

The slightest movement behind Bella drew his attention up to find Katrina staring at something behind him with a pinched expression, her fingers tightly wound around the keys in her hand.

"Mommy and I went to get ice cream," Bella bragged, taking that moment to lick at her dripping cone. "Why are you home so early?"

"I-" He chanced a look behind him to find Abbie standing a few feet away, her expression quite similar to Katrina's, if not more intimidating. "I was worried when I went to get you from school. The secretary said you were checked out."

He turned back to Bella just in time to see her smile up at Katrina. "Mommy said we were going to surprise you at work."

"Did she?" He, too, looked to Katrina, who finally met his gaze, her eyes softening as she did so.

"Yes, but as we passed, we saw Abbie's car here." Her eyes cut back to Abbie. "So, we stopped."

"Lucky you," Abbie voiced behind him, her tone even and all business.

"Bob!" Bella exclaimed, leaving his arms and darting past him toward the kitchen. "I missed you all day."

Lost in her joy over being reunited with her friend, Bella's absence gave him the opportunity to rise to his feet and fully face Katrina.

"I know what you're thinking," she began, taking a step toward him, her intent to get the first word in clear. "And it's not true."

"You have no idea what I'm thinking," he bit, his voice laced with malice. "What I went through when they told me you'd taken Bella."

"My love." She reached out to him, her plea a cracked whisper. "Please-"

"Don't!" he growled, snapping a finger in her direction. "You _took_ my child."

" _Our_ child," Katrina corrected, her brow furrowed, the expression on her face suggesting she couldn't believe he'd called her anything else; as if it was a foreign concept to her that he was angry enough to do so. "And you're acting as though I stole her away. She's right there, Ichabod." She gestured to Bella, who was still oblivious as she wrestled with Bob. "I brought her home to you, every hair on her head in place."

"Katrina-"

"I knew you would jump to conclusions," she interrupted. "And I knew you would never give me the opportunity to explain."

"Explain?" Abbie asked, the tension in the room rising as her presence intruded upon the conversation. "You're dabbling in blood magic, again. There's not much there to explain."

"Don't pretend as though you know anything about what I do," Katrina snapped, her eyes dancing dangerously at Abbie. "You're just elated because you think you've been proven right. You've been waiting for an opportunity to attack me since the moment I was released."

Mind spinning, he brought a hand to his head as he leaned against the back of the sofa. This day...

"I think it's time you leave," Abbie said, causing him to lift his head just in time to see her lay her hand to the butt of her firearm.

"Abbie-" he began to object, not wanting to see this situation escalate to a violent level.

However, Katrina's eyes flickering between Abbie's hand and face gave him panic. Just as he moved to intercede and step between them, Abbie's pistol snapped from her side and flew into Katrina's hand, the sight of it prompting his heart to falter.

"Katrina," he whispered, stepping between she and his friend, his eyes now trained on the weapon she was holding before her, every muscle in his body rigid. "Don't." He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender; not wanting to give her any cause for premature action. "Whatever the case, this _will not_ happen with Bella in the house."

As her eyes danced between he and Bella, she shook her head, tears building around her gold-green orbs. "Just-" she choked on a sob. "Please, just allow me to explain. That's all I ask, Ichabod." With trembling hands, she held the pistol out for him to take. "I don't want to hurt anyone. I just want you to listen."

The way she could pull his heart from his chest and tear it to shreds terrified him. Here he was, on the verge of a breakdown because he'd thought she'd stolen his daughter, and now he was feeling the urge to give her another chance. How was it possible for such feelings to occur within him so quickly?

As he took the weapon from her with a measure of care for how quickly she could move, he whispered, "Tell me."

"Crane-"

He held his hand up without ever breaking eye contact with Katrina.

"Tell me," he repeated, his heart ready to burst from his chest.

Allowing Abbie to speak over Katrina in this situation would not help matters. That he knew for certain. His friend's life might very well be in danger if he didn't handle this situation with a delicate hand. Letting Katrina have her say may well be the only way to calm matters enough to settle this situation entirely.

"It wasn't anything dangerous or insidious," she quickly assured, wiping a hand under her eyes. "It was a simple spell any which would perform without fear of retribution."

"Katrina," he whispered, his eyes hardening as he considered the lie she was seemingly trying to spin. "I know what I saw."

"Yes, I used my blood," she hurried to explain, her eyes wide. "But it wasn't anything for me. It was gift for you, my love."

Perplexed, he narrowed his eyes at her.

For him? What on earth could she have been doing with something so against what he stood for in his name?

"A gift?" he asked incredulously, sure she'd lost her mind. "You thought blood magic was an acceptable gift? And, yet, you ask me to trust your judgment?"

"It was a memory; a recollection of the day of and following Jeremy's birth." She shook her head. "I wanted you to be able to experience his life as you expressed wanting to do so; to give you the better memories you said you wished you had. My blood was required as a part of the potion I was making. It replicates my memories for you to see."

It was too much to comprehend. She'd done this for him? That's what this entire day had been about since the onset?

Drawing away from her, he turned to Abbie who was still on guard behind him, seeking her opinion on the matter.

However, one look from her told him all he needed to know.

"You don't actually believe her!"

Mouth moving without sound, he glanced back at Katrina, who looked ready to fall to pieces, before once again facing his friend. "It- I did express such a wish to her."

"Crane," Abbie urged, taking his arm and pulling him away from Katrina, as though a few feet would make a difference. "Do not let her manipulate you."

"I can prove it," Katrina interjected, as she dug in her coat pocket before producing a small vile containing a purplish liquid. "It's ready. All you have to do is drink it and you'll see the truth."

There was a certain desperation about her as she held the small offering out to him; one he couldn't say he'd associated with Katrina on too many occasions. She was always so sure of herself; so in control. To see her on the verge of falling apart spoke volumes to her case in his opinion.

To convince Abbie of that, though...

"There is no way in hell he's drinking that," Abbie objected, her eyes shooting daggers at Katrina. "We don't have any proof that whatever is in that vile is even legit."

"If she wanted to hurt me, she could have already done so," he defended, taking the vile from Katrina; the small thing that was causing them so much strife.

"Are you out of your mind?" Abbie reached for the vile, but he snapped his hand away, making sure to keep it safely tucked against his palm. "Ichabod-"

"Abbie," he interrupted, giving his friend a pleasing look. "There's no reason to distrust her."

"No reas- Are you kidding me?" Abbie flung her hands up. "There're _dozens_ of reasons."

"None that have come to light today," he argued, more sure than he'd been since this nightmare had started. "She brought Bella home-"

"After kidnapping her!"

A heavy breath left him as he considered his words; one's he knew would come back to bite him. "After taking insurance to make me listen to her."

"Oh, so Bella's insurance, now?" Abbie shook her head as she began pacing. "Don't be so gullible, Ichabod. Just wanting to believe something doesn't make it true."

Twisting the vile between his fingers, he stared at it; attempting to find reassurance for what he was feeling.

"Tell me something," he whispered, his eyes seeking out his wife. "Tell me something I can trust; that both Abbie and I can trust."

"I-" Katrina's eyes flickered between them, hesitancy clear in them. If she didn't say something quick he wasn't sure he'd be able to maintain this situation much longer. "Bella."

"Bella?" He turned to look at his daughter, finding her chasing Bob up and down the hallway on all fours. "What of her?"

"Perhaps, even after everything we've spoken of, you still don't trust my love for you, but you cannot deny my love for her." Katrina's hand rested over his on the vile. "I would give my life to see her continued happiness and you make her happier than anyone." Her touch burned through him. "Trust that."

There wasn't anything in her words he could dispute; nothing in which he could find fault. All he really had was his gut feeling which was telling him she was being honest.

At the end of this debate, he popped the cork on the vile and downed its contents before anyone could object, the foul taste hardly a blip as the effects established themselves from the onset of the liquid touching his tongue.

It was like watching a movie without being able to move or speak. Images flashed through his mind without warning, too out of focus to register. There was nothing he could truly latch onto as a foundation to know his time or place. Voices rushed past him as he struggled to understand what they meant with no success.

Then, without warning, everything became clear as day. He and Katrina, the night before his departure, tangled in their bed together; no regard for anything other than their lover; making love as though they each knew it would be the last time.

Seeing them together in such a way hurt him more than his own memory. It was the actuality of seeing how in love they'd once been; how close, both physically and emotionally.

She'd been his everything and it was completely obvious in the way he touched her; in the way his body moved over her. Her reciprocation was equally as telling; her eyes trained on his every move as though he were the very air she breathed; one thing that could not exist without the other.

Before he could really take them in, the scene change to one of utter chaos; cannon and musket fire all around him. Then, Katrina was hovering over him as he lay sliced open, his body exposed as she begged for him to stay with her; pressing kisses to his face and hand as she wept. Then, the Reverend Knapp was there, urging her to complete the spell.

Her devastation as she looked up at the man took the air from his lungs.

" _No_ ," she whispered, her tears leaving muddy streaks against her skin. " _There_ _must_ _be another way._ "

Knapp leaned over his body and pressed Washington's Bible to his chest. " _This is your_ _mission; your duty_. _Preserve him as you vowed you would_."

Katrina's eyes shut tightly as she bowed over him, her body wracked with sobs; her hands clutching at his ripped vest.

 _"Ichabod, please_ ," she pleaded, her voice as broken as his body. _"Don't leave me_ _here_."

" _Katrina_ ," Knapp pressed as a soldier bumped into him in a hurry to escape the tent. " _He's beyond our aid. See your duty done. Preserve him."_ Knapp placed a hand to her arm and tugged her up. _"The time is nearly passed."_

He wanted to intercede and berate the man for his treatment of his wife. He had no right to place hands on her in such a way; to speak to her as though her husband wasn't lying their on the edge of death.

Katrina's hands shook as she placed one to his head and the other to Washington's Bible. He wanted to go to her; to tell her he was fine; that this moment would not be their last together, but, then the scene changed once more.

Now, he was in a house, one decorated lavishly.

 _"Perhaps, this tonic will help."_

He turned to find Abigail Adams looming in his vision as she hurried forward with a tray.

" _I_ _have_ _nowhere_ _to go_ ," Katrina whispered, her voice choked and breathing labored as she hunched over herself. " _Nowhere, they won't find me."_

"You'll remain here," Abigail assured, taking a seat beside Katrina and placing a hand to her back. "I will speak with my husband-"

"No," Katrina interjected, standing from the bed, her belly giving way to her condition. "It's not safe, now... with the baby."

Seeing her full with child caused him to lurch toward her.

"Katrina?" he called, but, to his disappointment, she never acknowledged him.

"Is there no sanctuary you know?" Abigail asked. "What of Frederick's Manor?"

Katrina shook her head, defeat overtaking her features. "It's too far. I'd never out run them, not in my condition."

Abigail stood from the bed. "I will gather supplies for you to take with you and my fastest carriage to carry you there."

As Abigail departed the room, Katrina sank to the bed, her hand resting over her belly. "Forgive me, my love."

The defeat in her gaze brought him to a kneeling position in front of her.

"My love," he whispered, desperate to see her eyes. "I'm right here."

Her eyes opened, revealing that brilliant color he so loved just as the world began changing around him again.

Next, he was surrounded by darkness with only the moon overhead to light his way.

Heavy breathing drew his gaze around to find Katrina fleeing an unknown assailant, her face a mask of terror as she stumbled between trees; Fredrick's Manor looming in sight just ahead.

Then, screams assailed him as he was suddenly in a room, lit with candlelight and servants rushing about in a frenzied manner.

"I cannot do this," she begged, fisting the sheets beneath her. "Not without Ichabod."

"You must," Grace urged, her hand brushing Katrina's hair back in comfort. "Now, push."

Screams filled the room as Katrina gave herself over to bringing their son into the world.

Then, he was there, in Grace's arms as she carefully handed him to Katrina; red and furious to be separated from his home.

His heart skipped a beat as he caught his first true sight of his son; of the precious life he'd been; of the child born of his parents' love.

And Katrina... she was the image of a new mother; thrilled and proud. He'd never seen her so delighted with anything.

"Ichabod would be overjoyed, Katrina," Lachlan assured, as he looked on at mother and child.

Katrina nodded through tears, her hand stroking their son's cheek. "He will be." She smiled. "Your father will be so proud of you, Jeremy."

Glass shattered, drawing everyone's attention from the new life amongst them to the crows beating themselves against the window. Panic ensued as Lachlan urged Katrina and Grace to leave and he felt himself reaching out to her, wishing to protect her.

However, before he could react, he was standing in a church watching Katrina speak softly to their son, tears streaming down her face.

Quickly moving closer to them, he heard her soft whisper.

"You are my heart and soul, Jeremy Crane, and always will be."

While she continued to speak to their son, he looked over the blankets and took in the face of his son; so innocent; so pure. What he wouldn't give to reach out and touch him as Katrina was now doing; to assure him that he would protect him; that evil would never know his name.

As she moved to hand Jeremy to Grace, he matched her step for step, not wanting to miss a moment of what she'd seen of their son's life. To his surprise, Katrina did not linger and procrastinate her separation, but, instead, hurriedly turned and began briskly walking in the opposite direction.

It was only when she was halfway down the aisle of the church that he heard her pained sob. The moment she reached the tree line, she collapsed to the ground, her grief wrecking her body as she clutched at herself.

What he wouldn't give to comfort her; to touch her. Coming to kneel beside her, he observed the way she dug her fingers into her dress, attempting to gain control of her emotions.

A flash of light swept him into her next memory and suddenly he found himself surrounded by cloaked figures.

"Give us the witness, Ichabod Crane, and you may return your son."

Katrina stood taller as she looked between The Four, her jaw clenched as she remained silent.

"She will not tell us anything," one of The Four foreshadowed.

"Her heart is too intertwined with the witness'," another said.

"Traitor."

"Insolent."

"She will be banished."

"Crane!"

"What's wrong with my daddy?" Bella whispered, her voice panicked. "Why isn't he waking up?"

"I swear to God," Abbie whispered. "If you've done anything to-"

"He's experiencing my memories," Katrina answered, her voice tinged with frustration. "He will not awaken until it's finished."

He felt as though he were awakening from a long sleep, much like the two century long one he'd endured prior. Everything felt odd; his fingers tingled and his mouth felt dry. Then, there was the ache to the back of his head.

"Katrina," he breathed, eyes cracking open to find the three of them hovering over him, worried expressions permeating each of their faces.

"Crane," Abbie called, her hand tugging at his shoulder. "Talk to me. Are you alright?"

It took him a moment to realize he was on the floor. Of course, like an idiot, he hadn't foreseen he might collapse. At least, that explained the throb to the back of his skull.

"Daddy?" Bella's hands cupped his face, her eyes worriedly looking him over. "Are you sick?"

Conjuring a smile, he pushed himself up and pulled Bella into his lap. "Not at all, angel."

"Well, you fell down like you were," she argued, her face quickly moving from concern to disdain. "You gave me a heart attack."

With a chuckle, he stood her up and regained his feet. "I assure you, I'm fine."

"Did it work?" Eyes seeking out Katrina, he found her fidgeting nervously with her shirt, her gaze searching for answers.

"Did it work?" Abbie echoed. "Are you kidding me?"

"I've never mixed this potion before," Katrina defended, her eyes flickering between them in agitation. "I'd meant to go through the process with him before he took it to explain what would happen. I didn't think he'd just-"

"It worked," he whispered, his eyes never leaving her. "I saw..."

What had he seen? Her memories were so clear to him now; as though each of them were his own. It truly was a gift she'd given him. Never before had he been more sure of her love; of her devotion to him.

"I saw everything."

It was like watching the waves roll back from the shore; as though years of weight had suddenly lifted from her shoulders. "Then, you know I was telling the truth. You know I'd never-"

It wasn't a conscious thought, but a natural next step for him to take her face in his hands and kiss her. His love, his wife, had endured hell in his name, yet, he'd done nothing but doubt her, accuse her of things he, himself, had never fully understood.

Yes, she'd been telling the truth. She'd done so much with so little credit.

"You sacrificed everything for me," he whispered, his emotions torn to shreds as he slid his hands down her arms to take her fingers between his. "I could never repay such devotion."

The glisten to her eyes was the least of the evidence to how truly relieved she was. "You don't have to repay something that's freely given."

"I-"

"Excuse me," Bella muttered, squeezing her way between them. "Why are you whispering?"

With a roll of his eyes, he bent to muss her hair. "None of your concern, nosey."

"Whatever," she groaned, before turning to the puppy gnawing at her shoes and lifting him from the floor. "Come on, Bob. Grown-ups are weird."

When he turned back to Katrina, intent upon further discussing what had just transpired, he found her expression more reserved as her hands slipped from his person.

"I'll go help her change."

As she walked past him, he noticed her avoid all eye contact with Abbie, her gaze completely on Bella as she guided her to the back of the house.

"Just like that, huh?"

A heavy sigh left him as he turned to his friend, knowing full well he was about to face a storm. "She wasn't lying, Abbie. Everything she said was proven truthful. I saw every memory as though it were my own."

Abbie nodded, her lips tightly pursed. A storm, indeed, he thought as he observed the tale-tale signs of her working to keep herself in check.

"Go on, attempt to make your next case." He couldn't take much more of the tension between all of them. "She's my wife and I've chosen to forgive her. That's between she and I."

"Alright, well, then, the next time you start doubting your wife again, maybe don't come running to me for help." She started for the door before spinning back to him with her hands in the air. "Why am I surprised, though? You and her are both the same; selfish to the core and only available when you need something."

"Abbie, that isn't-"

Abbie's eyes flashed at him. "I raised that little girl with you, Ichabod. Every step of the way, Jenny and I were there, giving you any and all of the time you required of us."

"And I'm grateful for that-"

"No," Abbie countered, her hand the one pointed at him this time. "You're just one of those people who want what they want and are willing to blindly go through life acceptpting everything they have to in order to keep it."

He moved to refute her, but she held up her hands, not allowing it.

"No, I'm done." She shook her head. "I'm done listening to you make excuses for Katrina and I'm done watching her hurt you over and over only for you to forgive her at every turn." She pointed to the door. "Other people don't get the kinds of second and third and tenth chances she's been given. Most people have to suffer the consequences for attempting to commit murder and harboring fugitives and covering up deaths and God only knows what else she's done."

The knot in the back of his throat would not budge.

"I love you, Crane, and I love, Bella, but I'm not a fool and I will not be treated like one. Katrina has no remorse for the people she's hurt and I've lost too many friends and loved ones to the skewed and one-sided ideas she harbors. She's a manipulator and you are her best puppet." She pulled the door open. "I'm here for Bella, but I am done with you."

With that she pulled the door closed behind her, leaving him with the feeling that his heart had just shattered.

What had just happened?

"I'm sorry."

The unexpected sound of her voice prompted his eyes to shut tightly.

"I never meant to-"

"I'm going for a walk." He reached for his coat and headed for the same door his friend had just slammed, a perfect example of how he'd just been shut from her life. "Don't wait up for me."

"Ichabod-"

"Katrina," he begged, as he turned to find her staring after him, worry present in her eyes. "Just don't."

The nod she gave him was hesitant, but it was her assurance nonetheless. Trust her as he now did, he knew she wouldn't follow.

With that, he open the door and departed.

* * *

Walking.

Once upon a time, such a luxury had been a wonderful past time. No matter the time of day, or the circumstances of life, he'd take a walk and sort his thoughts out; allow his mind to work through and grasp onto whatever it was he needed to wrap his mind around at the time.

However, this evening, he found the crisp evening air to be of little service in the matter of determining just what had happened in the events which had transpired in his home.

How was it possible for one day to take him through so many emotions? He'd gone from hopefulness to despair to anger to grief to relief then back to despair.

Katrina had gone from losing his trust to regaining it in ways he'd yet to fully comprehend while Abbie had gone from determined to help him fix his life to walking out of it.

A cool breeze brushed his skin as he paused, attempting to allow his muddled thoughts to dissipate. Whatever had happened earlier, he knew one thing for sure: his life was never going to flow easy.

It always seemed to be something; some end of the world catastrophe that swooped in and stole his peace from him. No matter what he did, how hard he tried to make everyone important to him happy, he seemed to always fail in the worst ways.

At the end of what he considered a walk with no resolution, he turned on his heel and started back toward his house. A glance at his watch told him Bella's bedtime was fast approaching and she couldn't afford to miss or be late to anymore school.

By the time he was walking through his front door, he was exhausted from the mental exertion the walk had taken from him. He expected a fight with an earlier bedtime than usual, but he was too tired to extend this night any longer.

However, to his surprise, only the light above the stove was on, leaving everything else shrouded in darkness.

Laughter pouring from his bedroom caught his attention. Following it, he crept up to the door and peeked through the crack, much as he'd done earlier in the day.

This time, though, there was nothing from which to flee. Quite the opposite really. This time, he found Katrina propped up on pillows in his bed with Bella right beside her, the two of them completely wrapped up in whatever movie they were watching.

"I love her dress," Bella giggled, her voice a tale of her excitement. "Don't you, mommy?"

Katrina chucked as she nodded along with Bella. "I do. Actually, I've worn a dress or two quite similar to that one."

"You have?" Bella stared up at her wide eyed. "That's so cool!"

He could have watched them for ages; mother and daughter, content with simply watching a movie together as though they'd been doing it for years. Just the sight of them calmed his nerves considerably, but it wasn't enough to cure his tiredness.

Clearing his throat, he pushed the door open and smiled as both of their heads whipped toward him.

"Daddy!" Bella pushed herself up on her knees. "Where have you been, silly?"

"Oh, I just went for a short walk."

"Short?" Bella scrunched up her face at him. "You've been gone forever!"

"And you hardly look ready for bed," he countered, his eyes narrowed. "You have school tomorrow."

She fell back with a pleading expression. "It's almost over."

Stepping further into the room, he noticed Sleeping Beauty playing on the TV.

"Is it, now?" he asked, well familiar with the animated princess and just how long this particular movie had left. "Best I can tell, it still has half an hour."

Bella tucked in closer to Katrina, who accepted their daughter's squirming attempt to avoid his eyes.

"I'm sleeping with mommy, tonight."

"Are you?" he asked, his eyes finally meeting Katrina's.

The way she was looking at him, a thousand questions in her gaze, left him wanting to avoid her. He simply didn't have the energy for that conversation tonight.

"Finish your movie," he relented. "I'm going to change."

Bella gave a small squeal of delight as she bounced back into her previous spot in the bed. "Ok, Bob, no more hiding."

Out of nowhere, the puppy popped out of the blankets causing him to groan. "Bella, must you allow that dog in my bed?"

Bella gave him a perplexed look. "But this is mommy's bed." She lifted her chin with a bit of defiance. "And she said I could."

About to open his mouth and reprimand the smart remark, Katrina butt in, "Your father works very hard to give us all beds to sleep in, Bella. If he says Bob shouldn't be here-"

"It's fine," he cut in, too tired to argue with them. "I'll be right back."

After he'd shut the bathroom door, he leaned over the sink and sighed, his head pounding. What he wouldn't have given for just one more day of peace.

Amidst changing into some clothes to sleep in, he heard them start giggling again. More than anything, he wished he could just relax and share in their joy. He simply wasn't sure he had it in him this evening.

Finished changing, he open the door and noticed them once again enthralled with the movie.

"All right, angel." He made his way over to the bed and bent to kiss her forehead. "Straight to sleep as soon as this is over, understood?"

"But aren't you going to watch it with us?" Bella sat up and tugged on the covers. "There's room for you, too."

Chancing a small glance at Katrina, he found her observing him again, leaving him completely unnerved. "Bells, I-"

"Please, daddy," she begged, latching onto his shirt. "It's almost over. I want you and mommy here."

It was as though she knew just what to say to tear out his heart, no doubt something she'd inherited from her mother.

Murmuring under his breath, he relented and slipped under the covers beside her.

Without wasting a moment, she burrowed into his side, leaving Bob to curl up in Katrina's lap.

"It's your favorite part."

"Is it?" he asked with a chuckle, more than a little pleased he rated higher than the dog tonight.

"Mhm."

"Why is this your favorite part?" Katrina asked, her brow furrowed as she tended to Bob's need to be scratched. "It's quite sad. She died."

"Because, daddy's Beauty and you're his prince." Bella yawned. "He said he went to sleep for a long time and you saved him."

A little hot under the collar that his sappy story had now been shared, he shifted in discomfort. "Well, it's-" He shrugged his shoulders. "Similar."

"See," Bella pointed at the TV. "He woke her up with true love's kiss." She turned to Katrina. "Is that how you woke daddy up?"

Katrina smiled and nodded her head side to side. "Not quite, but... Our true love did save him for sure."

Unable to help himself, he finally looked at her, meeting those eyes he so loved. There was no discord or sadness in her gaze this time; only love.

"For sure," he whispered, reaching out and threading their fingers together.

He could have gotten lost in her eyes had not the volume of the next scene picked up. However, he never took his hand from hers.

It was like an ocean of warmth had flooded him. Just touching her calmed his nerves and reminded him of all she'd been; all she was. How had he ever survived a day without her?

Turning his eyes back to her, he observed how drawn into the movie she was. It made him smile to think of how innocent it was for her to be here, simply watching a movie with their daughter.

For so long, there'd been so much hidden behind those gold-green eyes and, now, it felt like a wall of iron and steel had collapsed around her, revealing her deepest wounds to him.

"I believe she's out," Katrina whispered, as she ran her fingers through Bella's hair, brushing it from her face.

"Oh, yes," he said, finally noticing the movie had reached its conclusion.

Katrina smiled as she eased Bob over to curl against Bella. "That was fast."

"She was fighting it," he whispered, making sure she had a pillow under her head.

Once he had her adjusted, he nodded toward the door and added, "I'll just-"

"Stay with us," she cut in, her hand reaching out and clasping his.

"Katrina-"

"I think it would make her happy to wake up between us," she quickly added, her fingers pulling him closer. "Please, don't go."

Shaking his head with a small grin, he remarked, "The two of you and your power of persuasion."

"Does that mean you'll stay?" she asked, hope clear in her voice.

"Did I truly have a choice in the matter?" he asked, as he eased down in the bed to rest on his side.

As she followed suit, facing him on Bella's other side, she laid her arm around Bella to hold her close. "I suppose not. I've simply become so accustomed to having you with me at night."

It would have taken a tremendous amount of willpower to keep himself from touching her; the likes of which he didn't possess.

In moments, he had an arm over Bella's head, stroking Katrina's hair.

"I'm sorry I left so abruptly," he whispered, true remorse present. "I just-"

"I understand." She pressed a kiss to his wrist. "It's been a very long day."

"It has," he replied, before meeting her eyes. "I want to discuss it."

"Discuss...?" She searched his gaze before adding, "My memories?"

"I've traded doubt for regret where you're concerned."

The furrow of her brow was to be expected as he was sure he was making little sense.

"Regret for what?"

"For everything we lost; for everything I abandoned you to endure alone."

"My love," she whispered, her eyes momentarily falling closed as she took a moment to respond. "I've carried so much anger and resentment all these years..." She met his gaze again. "But I've never suffered the idea that you abandoned me. It's simply not true."

She lifted her hand, her fingers smoothing over his cheek. "You, Ichabod Crane, are the great love of my life. No other in this, or any world, could take your place in my heart."

"Even after everything that's happened?"

She smiled, her eyes creasing with mirth. "Truest love, indeed."

Joining her in her amusement, he glanced down at Bella who was deep in her dreams by this point. To see his daughter in such an innocent state brought to mind his eldest child.

"He was a beautiful baby."

Her fingers paused only for a moment before he felt them slip under his chin and tilt his face to her. The contentment in her eyes settled his soul.

"I love you, Ichabod Crane."

"As I love you."


	13. Chapter 13

"I can't do it," Bella groaned, falling face first into the sofa, muffling all her exaggerated murmurings. "Please, daddy."

At his wits end, he lost all regard for biting back his frustration, "Bella, if you don't sit up and be still, I swear-"

"I can't, daddy," she cried, her voice growing to a scream as she twisted and turned until she collapsed to the floor in a fit. "It hurts."

"No, it doesn't," he argued, shuffling his feet over so she didn't kick him amidst all of her flailing. "You're being ridiculous."

"No, I'm not," she yelled, throwing her head back, her face red and streaked with tears. "You're being mean!"

"What's going on?" Katrina's voice came from behind him. "What's wrong with her?"

Gaze seeking her out in the hopes she could do something with their unruly child, he took in her wet hair and half buttoned shirt. She must have heard Bella having a fit and thought something was wrong.

"She needs her nails clipped and is having a meltdown over it."

He threw an accusing look at Bella, who had stilled, distracted from her dramatics. However, the moment she caught his eyes fixed on her, she tossed her head back and returned to her twisting around as though she was being tortured. The little devil was putting on quite the show, he'd give her that.

"Oh, Bella," Katrina soothed as she knelt beside their little monster, who was now eating up her mother's affection. "It's alright."

It didn't take but a minute for Bella to wind up in Katrina's arms, crawling all over her as she moaned and groaned about her misfortune. For her part, Katrina scooped her up and began muttering comforting words to her, never once asking if perhaps Bella was in the wrong. It set his blood boiling that Bella was attempting to manipulate this situation.

"Don't coddle her," he butt in, not having any of this. "She's rotten enough without condoning this type of behavior."

"Mommy, please, tell him to stop," Bella cried into Katrina's neck, twisting Katrina's shirt between her fingers as she clung all the tighter to her. "He's being mean to me."

Katrina's eyes sought him out with a helpless look, the sort that told him she was about to further defend their big baby.

"No," he growled, his hard tone leaving no room for argument, as he held up a finger. "This isn't up for debate."

"Ichabod," she softly whispered, her hands rubbing soothing circles over Bella's back. "Perhaps-"

"Bella, _get_ up," he ordered, finished with this business. Reaching out and grasping his daughter's arm, he went on, "I've had it."

"No!" she squealed at the top of her lungs, clinging all the tighter to Katrina, who was trying to keep her shirt together as Bella ripped at it as a means to avoid him. "I want mommy!"

"Bella, let her go." He dropped to his knees in an attempt to get a better handle on the squirming girl. "Bella-"

"Bella, sweetheart, just do as your father says, alright?" Katrina attempted to persuade. "He's only trying to help you."

"No!"

It was taking everything in him to pry her fingers from the death grip she had on Katrina's shirt. Somehow, she'd gotten her fingers twisted all around the material, obviously in preparation for his pulling her away. He'd never accuse Bella of being unintelligent. She was on a well laid out path to being just as skillfully manipulative as her mother.

"Bella, I swear to God, if you don't let go, you're not going to your play tomorrow."

It was like a light switching off, the way her body loosened from Katrina's so she could spin and look at him, daggers in her green eyes. "You can't do that. I have to go. It's for school."

"Test me some more and you'll see just how serious I am." He flung a stiff finger at the sofa. "Now, _sit down_."

The defiant cross of her arms accompanied her twisting lips. "I want mommy to do it."

Grinding down on his teeth, he pointed to the sofa again. " _Sit down_."

"I want mommy to do it," Bella growled lowly with a hard stomp of her foot. "I don't want you."

That was it.

He'd had it with her attitude.

Taking a brisk step forward, he jerked her up around the waist and set her on the sofa, making sure to keep a hand on her so she didn't jump up.

"Stop!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, flailing about like a mad woman.

"Bella Leighanne, you will cease this behavior immediately."

It wasn't that he actually expected her to stop. Years of fighting over little things like this had taught him that she never did. She'd curse and swipe at him to the bitter end, never tiring or giving an inch.

Normally, he'd have given up by now, which of course was probably why he had so much trouble with her now. However, his day had consistently been on the decline from the onset starting with his spilling an entire cup of coffee down his suit and moving onto being chewed out by his employer. Then, he'd endured yet another round of Abbie ignoring phone calls from him. That, more than anything, set his nerves at their very ends. Twenty-four hours had barely passed since Abbie's and his fight and he was already desperate to get in touch with her; to beg her to simply talk to him. It wasn't that he couldn't appreciate where she was coming from so much as he just wanted to hash their argument over Katrina out in a less hostile manner, especially when it wasn't so fresh and emotions weren't running quite so high.

Be that as it may, it was Bella's very unlucky timing to have chosen this night to test him. Now, he was at the end of his rope and he finished with her constant refusal to obey him. Abbie had always said he'd have a breaking point. He supposed he was getting close to it.

"Now, you listen to me," he stated, his voice laced with warning as he got right in Bella's red face. "You _will not_ carry on like this another moment."

"But-"

"No!" he harshly objected, his finger finding a spot between their panted breathing. "You will not speak another word of protest or nastiness this night, do you understand?"

She wrinkled her face and crossed her arms in a pout as she fell back against the sofa, her gaze avoidant.

"I expect an answer," he added in warning, not daring to let her have the last word with her attitude. "Do you understand?"

"Yes," she mumbled, her eyes trained as far from him as she could get them.

"Yes, what?" he demanded, tilting his head into her field of vision.

A loud huff slipped through her lips, causing her whole body to jerk with it as she cast him a downright loathsome look before she growled, "Yes, sir."

He pushed a defeated sigh though his nose as he shook his head and pushed himself up, not feeling as though he'd handled that well at all. Turning to Katrina, who was staring at him in a surprised manner, he held out the fingernail clippers to her.

"She's all yours."

The moment, she took them, he spun and left the two of them alone.

Seeking solace in his room, he shut the door and began shrugging his dress shirt from his shoulders.

He'd yet to even have time to change clothes this evening. Since he'd walked through the door, he'd been bombarded with spelling words, which Bella was expected to know for her test the next morning, a fact she'd misplaced until the last minute.

Katrina had already spent over an hour attempting to help her, but Bella had been in a decidedly foul mood, leaving her unwilling to learn anything. So, he'd taken over and sat at the dinner table with her for yet another hour before heading to his office in the hopes of finishing up some paperwork he'd been slammed with the moment he'd entered his office at the museum.

Dinner had been takeout and then Katrina had gone to take a bath while he set about getting Bella ready for bed. She'd been resistant every step of the way before becoming volatile when he'd noticed her nails were too long. The moment the words had left his mouth, she'd started her fit right then and there, running all over the house, screaming that she couldn't do it.

As he slipped his shoes and socks off, he noticed a hole had formed in the toe of his left sock.

"For God's sake," he groaned in agitation, his whole body becoming riddled with anger as he ripped the material from his foot and chunked it to the floor. "Cannot _one thing_ go right, today?"

Falling back against the bed in a manner much like Bella had done, he brought his hands to his face, wishing he could just time jump to the next morning and be finished with this day. There was nothing he wished to carry forward from the day he'd just endured.

Tomorrow had to be better. If it wasn't, he might find himself joining Bella in her next tantrum.

Then, he remembered Bella's Thanksgiving play and realized he'd be forced to spend an evening with both Katrina and Betsy.

"Why do you hate me?" he whispered to the silent room, wishing to heaven he could just catch a break.

"I happen to love you," came Katrina's voice, slight mirth in her tone.

Startled by her presence, he lifted his head and found her closing their door with a grin. "Where's the monster?"

"In bed," she answered, as she practically bounced toward him. "She and Bob are discussing how rude you are."

"That little-" He moved to sit up, but Katrina's hand to his chest prevented him from getting far. "She needs to learn."

Katrina chuckled, far too happily in his opinion, as she pushed him back and crawled over him on all fours. "She will."

Eyes on the way her shirt hung loose, giving him ample view of her chest, he whispered distractedly, "You're too lenient with her."

Thinking better of himself, he tore his gaze from the view she was giving him and frowned at her. "You're turning me into the mean parent."

With a smile to knowing to ignore, she pressed a kiss to his nose. "She's only testing you to see how far she can push you."

"Well, I'm tired and not in the mood for games." He settled his hands on her thighs. "I've never had to be hard on her. Abbie always..."

His eyes fell closed as he considered to who he was speaking and what he was speaking of. As if his day hadn't been hard enough, now he had to dance around Katrina about Abbie's role in Bella's life.

"I'm grateful she helped you," Katrina offered softly, her shallow breaths washing over his cheeks. "I'm not so prideful that I can't see all she's done for you and Bella, my love."

Half a nod was all he could give her as he fought to regain himself. His emotions were too disjointed for him to even appreciate what she'd just said.

"I'm glad you're here, now." He finally opened his eyes, hoping she could see how serious he was. "I know I may not seem it today, but I'm so happy, Katrina."

Her smile returned, one brilliant and full of grace. "As am I."

He lifted a hand to push her hair back before settling his fingers along the back of her neck, enjoying all the while how she leaned into his touch. "You make me so happy."

Her eyes fluttered as she leaned forward to press her mouth to his; her kiss hardly unexpected and wholly appreciated. It would be easy enough for her to fix his day with this. He should have sought her out sooner; taking the time to bask in her affection and love.

As she kissed him, he eagerly smoothed his other hand along her thigh and over the back of her pants; wanting to feel more of her; all of her. Never pausing to wonder if he should, he slipped his hand inside her sweats and explored the smooth contours of her ass and lower back, all the while loving the way she flexed her muscles with his every touch.

The way Katrina felt wasn't something to be undersold. The smooth skin was only the beginning of the ways she drew him deep into her well of never ending facets.

God, she was hot to the touch, her flesh like a sea of molten lava under his fingertips, burning him to the bone in a way that made him long for more hands with which to touch her.

Then, there was her mouth, wet and warm, sliding along his neck as though it was her own canvas upon which she meant to create wonders. Her lips, plump and ripe for the picking, were his source of concentration. As they moved along his skin as they pleased, he wondered if she realized just how deeply devoted to her, he was.

Without an ounce of nervousness, he took his free hand and slipped it under her shirt, the smooth swell of her abdomen contracting at his touch as he moved his fingers along the planes of her body, pressing and pulling at her as he wished.

By the time he'd reached the warm swell of her breast, he was desperate for a breath.

Tearing his mouth from hers, he claimed her neck, his teeth scraping along the strong column, desperate to make her his; to mark her in some way.

"Ichabod," she whispered, her hips dragging tantalizingly slow over his. "Tell me something."

At the first nip of his teeth to her skin, he whispered, "I need you."

His need was undeniable, something he knew she was keenly aware of as she pressed her hips down into his for another go round.

"Is that what that's for?" she giggled in his ear, twisting her center over his pants and earning a deep, guttural groan from him. "I'd have never guessed it."

His wife could tease him into a sobbing mess if she wanted, but he prayed she'd hold off on such torture until another day. They'd yet to make love since her release and while today wasn't ideal and his mood was about as sour as Bella's, he still wanted her; needed her; prayed she wanted the same.

"Katrina, I-"

Flames of raw, unadulterated pleasure coursed down his spine.

Somehow, someway, she'd managed to slip her fingers around his cock without his knowing she was even in pursuit of it.

"How did you-?" He wantonly rolled his head to the side as she expertly handled him and moaned a low, "Fuck me."

A grin was his first clue she was amused with him as she lifted her head and caught his eyes. "I dare say you're enjoying yourself."

"Do you?" he asked through a staggered breath, tilting his head to the side to watch her hand shift in his pants. "What gave you that impression?"

"The 'fuck me' was a pretty good clue." She mused, her joy at his complete surrender to her obvious. "You've never been one for vulgar language in bed, Ichabod."

"Mhm," he breathed, resting his head back in the blankets as he basked in her attention, or, in truth, attempted to hear anything over the roar of his blood pounding.

"You've always aired more on the side of endearing romance."

A lazy grin spread his lips, all the while knowing she'd eaten his curse up. "Well, it has been a very long time since you've handled me with such thorough and wonderful skill as you are, now."

Her thumb swiped over his tip, causing every muscle in his body to coil as she uttered a seductive whisper, "Just wait."

The feel of her lips on his skin as she pressed them along his chest added to the flickers of pleasure building in his cock. It knew as well as he that relief would soon come and it bent to her will, glad to relish in her possession.

"I mentioned how much I missed you, didn't I?" he asked, his fingers weaving through her soft, soon to be tangled, hair as he fixed his eyes on the way she lathered him with her affections. "Because if it needs repeating, I'd- _God's wounds_ , Katrina!"

Her tongue dipped into his belly button, sending an unexpected thrill through him as he arched his hips from the bed, his fingers curling around her locks.

When her hand eased from his pants and began fumbling with shoving them down his thighs, his breathing spiked; the sudden anticipation lodging in his throat. Years weren't how long it had been. It was centuries.

The last time Katrina's mouth had been anywhere near his cock had been their last night together before he'd faced the Horseman and perished. Unlike the night of Bella's conception which had been a tense and wholly uncomfortable evening filled with the two of them fumbling around and only partaking of the mechanics of sex, that night had been one he'd have remembered until the day he died, eidetic memory or not. In truth, he supposed the night Bella had been conceived had been a last ditch effort to prove there was anything still functional about their marriage.

Now, though, he was keenly aware of just how functional they were together and his desire to have her continue on her present course was anything but unwelcome. However, he was a gentleman and it had been a long time...

"You don't have to," he spoke through a strained whisper, picking his head up to look at her as he desperately fought his lust with his love. "We can just-"

Those eyes he so loved flickered to him as she thoughtfully tilted her head at him, her smile gentle. "I know I don't have to, my love."

As her fingers wound around him once more, his body gave an involuntary lurch as the muscles in his chest and thighs tensed in an aching wait for what was to come. "This isn't going to last long."

A sly grin touched her lips as she pressed a kiss to his tip, taking the head into her mouth ever so slightly before whispering, "Then, I suggest you lie back and enjoy it for the little time you have left."

Then, without further ado, she began working him like the lover she'd been to him forever ago; her hands and mouth moving in perfect synchronicity.

Head tilting back, he gripped at the sheets and prayed he could keep himself in check long enough to actually enjoy this for a while. The feel of her hot breath along his skin was all he could concentrate on. At least, until her lips, wet and slick, had his cock crying out for more as the tension at its base built even further.

Thoughts of all the ways he wanted to repay her, however, slipped across the forefront of his mind, leaving him to fight off a wave of aching pleasure.

To taste her again, to give her the feelings he was now experiencing...

"Oh God," he hissed, his body setting over the precipice of release as she mouthed his shaft, invading his every sense and forcing him to abandon all composure to the side. "Katrina... I'm-"

Everything he'd ever felt paled in comparison to the force of his release in this moment. White, hot fire rippled through him, leaving him grasping for any sort of reality where he could remain caught in this feeling. His cock was still caught between her lips, leaving him lost for where he even was. The blood in his veins felt like it was boiling, surely burning through his skin; threads of insurmountable pain and pleasure combining to leave him at a loss for care over anything other than what was happening to his body.

"Fuck," he exhaled noisily, finally taking that first breath as the tension in his spine slowly ebbed away, leaving him to blink at the ceiling, the damp sheets beneath him sticking to his back as he unwound his fingers from them.

Her mouth roaming the juncture between his cock and thigh brought his gaze south to find her attention still fully concentrated on him, the curls from her hair tickling his thighs and belly.

"You," he breathed, strained and hoarse, drawing her glinting gaze up his chest. "Come here."

Crooking a finger at her, he waited as she left her kneeling position to slither up his body, her eyes never leaving his.

"Did you need something else?" she asked, a sly upturn to her mouth; a playful attempt to draw him into a reaction.

She was the devil... or an angel. There was a certain contradiction to be argued for whether option was true if one took into fact where her mouth had just been.

Possessively sliding his hands up her thighs as she hovered over him, he twisted the hem of her shirt between his fingers and slid it over her hips, leaving the small of her back exposed to the room and free to roam with his hands.

"I'm having an internal debate over whether you're an angel or the devil." He stretched up to tease her lips as he kneaded the flesh just over the waistband of her sweats, skimming the edge of the material, biding his time before he moved further. "Any thoughts on which it might be?"

Teeth nipping on his bottom lip, she shrugged her shoulders before moving to whisper against his ear, her warm breath making his eyes roll back. "I want to do bad things to you."

And just like that, he found himself aroused and wishing for his body to recover faster. Fingers delving beneath her sweats, he teased her flesh as he sought out that treasure between her thighs.

"I wouldn't mind seeing a little devil in you," she added, dragging her teeth along the column of his neck, scraping against his skin, surely leaving marks in her path.

"Oh?" he inquired, her slick, warmth which was coating his fingers holding the greater majority of his attention.

The shudder of her form was all the assurance he needed of her want, her forehead resting to his as she eyed the path between their bodies where his hand had disappeared.

"That feels better than I remember," she spoke, her eyes fluttering closed every few seconds as she canted her body toward his fingers, urging him deeper.

Eagerly nudging her face up with his nose and cheek, he caught her mouth in another plundering kiss, wanting to feel it the moment she began falling apart around him.

As her breathing began to falter, her tiny gasps coaxing him further into her spell, he lifted his other hand to the back of her head to hold her close, not daring to permit a moment to pass without her near.

Her sighs of gratefulness became shorter, raspier, and the slight canter she'd been matching with his fingers began to grow less strategic and more erratic.

Just as he was sure the tension in her body couldn't grow any greater, the violent quake he was seeking to bring forth from deep within her made itself known as she began trembling over him, seconds ticking by as she rode out her end.

The slick clinging to his fingers as he dragged them lazily around her center brought a cheesy grin to his face, one he was sure he'd be wearing for a solid week to come. "And to think, all of this and you're still fully clothed."

The muscles in her abdomen rocked over his arm as she chuckled, her nose digging into his cheek as she inhaled each breath. "That's probably something you should endeavor to rectify."

Too happy to search for a comeback, he crooked his fingers along the waistband of her sweats and began pushing them along with her panties down her legs, eagerness to continue consuming him.

At the point he could no longer reach, he grunted, "Any help would do."

As if to protest, she sagged even further against him, her arms sliding under his back and hands wrapping over his shoulders to hold him securely against her with the side of her face to his chest.

"I just want to lie her with you for a minute." The soft press of her lips to his chest stilled him, alerting him to the change in her mood. "I like listening to your heart beat in time with mine."

Any other time, he would have been impatient to begin the dance that would lead to their grand finale. However, this time, he found he wasn't rushed. Dragging his hands up her back, he tangled one set of fingers in her hair as his free hand remained along her spine where he set about stroking her back.

"I like holding you." He could feel her smile against his skin, drawing his own out. "And I like knowing you're here."

Another kiss caressed his chest. "I'll never leave you."


	14. Chapter 14

"Do you think she's nervous?" Katrina asked, her curious gaze trained on the many throngs of people making their way across the parking lot toward the school's auditorium.

Leave it to the small town of Sleepy Hollow to empty the streets for a Kindergarten play.

"I never know what to expect from Bella." He shifted the car into park, making sure he wasn't too close to the car next to them. "I think she's a mixture of nervous and excited."

After unbuckling his seat belt, he turned to her with a smile. "I know she's thrilled you're here."

Instead of returning his smile, Katrina bowed her head and began fidgeting with the pearl bracelet he'd presented her earlier, a token of his affection for the previous night they'd shared. He'd nearly been late to pick her up after having gotten caught up with trying to pick out just the right one.

"I hope I don't embarrass her."

Gaze snapping up from the pearls to the nervous expression on her face, he asked with a substantial amount of confusion, "What do you mean? You'd never embarrass her."

She gave a small shrug of her shoulders as she smoothed a hand over her dress. "I just... I don't want it to be too obvious that I don't know what I'm doing most of the time." Her eyes, glistening and ready to release a torrent of tears, turned to him. "It's so easy to be myself when it's just us at home, but here..." She glanced back out the window to the parents walking past. "I'm not like the other mothers who've been there from the beginning, who know everything about their daughters." She shook her head as her agitation seeped from her body as she wrung out her fingers. "And that's hardly to bring up how lost I am to dealing with everything else about this century I wasn't born into."

Not wanting to let on just how overwhelmed she'd made him feel, he reached out and took her hand.

"Katrina, Bella adores you."

"I know that," she defended, frustration in her tone. "I just..."

She began shaking her head as she turned away from him again.

Staring after her for a moment, he decided to just nip this right in the bud and exited the car before making his way around to open her door. This wasn't how this night was going to go. They'd been so over the moon with each other all morning after a night of making love into the early hours and then they'd parted for half a day. How she could have worked herself up over this so fast made him want to curse ever leaving her.

Reaching for her hand, he tugged her up and out of her seat.

"Alright," he said, closing the door and turning her to face him. "You, my love, are nothing if not extraordinary. All these other mothers-" He gestured to the auditorium. "They have nothing over you, do you understand?"

Doubt still weighed heavily in her features.

"Katrina," he pressed, tilting his head to the side as a means of catching her eyes. "Bella is so proud of you. She brags about you all the time to her friends. She's making them all jealous."

"She does?" she softly whispered, fingers twisting in his jacket as a ray of hope sparked in her eyes. "But I-"

"No buts," he cut in, making sure to have her gaze on his. "This is going to be a wonderful night. You'll see."

A moment's more doubt clung to her before she relented and uncoiled her fingers from his jacket. "Alright."

"Alright," he repeated while taking her hand, relief settling in his bones. "Now, let's go cheer on our little Pilgrim."

* * *

The auditorium was buzzing with parents seeking out seats and catching up with other parents and teachers. As he led her through the double doors, he paused to search out a place to sit; a difficult task with the many clusters of people grouped everywhere. These sorts of events were not his favorite to be a part of, what with all the excitement, but he refused to miss a single one.

"Hey, Ichabod!" came a high pitched voice to his right. "Over here!"

When he found the person in question, he discovered it to be Tish and another mom, Dani, waving at him and wildly gesturing to two free seats beside them.

Grateful Tish had saved them for him, he led Katrina over and helped her into her seat, making sure she was comfortable before joining her.

"Thank you," he said, taking a seat on the end and leaning forward to see Tish. "I always hate tying to find seats."

"Oh, yeah," she answered, rolling her eyes. "You'd think this was a Broadway show rather than a Kindergarten play with how most of these parents have filled up the seats with relatives from all over kingdom come."

Dani laughed. "Tish, give them a break. They're proud of their kids."

"Katrina, this is Dani," he introduced, while wrapping his arm around the back of her seat. "She's Tyler's mom."

Recognition flickered over Katrina's face as she turned to Dani with a bright smile. "Oh, Tyler. Bella talks about him all the time."

Dani grinned and crossed her fingers. "Here's to hoping it lasts. He's got the biggest crush on her ever."

When Katrina's confusion became evident, he squeezed her shoulder and added, "Tyler's been in love with Bella since the first day of Preschool."

"He's already thinking up things to give her for Christmas." Dani shook her head. "I haven't even gotten him anything yet and he's already pointing stuff out for Bella."

Tish giggled as she set her purse on the ground. "Now, I just need a guy that happy to give me things and I'll be all set."

The sound system gave a small screech as someone tapped on it, drawing his gaze to the stage where Betsy was adjusting the microphone. A wave of nerves hit him as he suddenly wished he could sink into the floor.

"Hello, everyone, we're almost ready, so if you could just take you're seats, we'll do our best to get started."

As she began walking off the stage, their eyes connected for a moment before hers ventured to his right, no doubt to Katrina. It wasn't overtly obvious if one wasn't paying attention, but he could see a slight give to her shoulders, most likely due to a sigh, before she disappeared from sight.

Just the idea that he might be upsetting her sat ill with him, but what was he to do? She was Bella's teacher and there was no escaping these awkward meetings. If he survived this night without too much discomfort, he would be surprised and eternally grateful.

As if hearing his wish, Dani leaned forward to look at them. "So, Katrina, I hear you're going to be sticking around Sleepy Hollow for a while?"

Gaze slipping to Katrina, he moved to answer, but paused when Katrina beat him to it, "Yes, I intend to make this my home."

"Really?" Dani asked, clearly less skilled at hiding her curiosity that Tish. "That's cool."

After doing a quick survey of the room, he noticed no less than three other sets of eyes on he and Katrina.

"Should I post it in the paper somewhere?" he asked, eyes narrowed at them in playful disapproval. "I've had so many people interested in my love life that I suppose I should take such measures to reach them all with the news."

Tish rolled her eyes. "I told you, the latest bit of juicy gossip is yours so you may as well get used to it. All attention is on the two of you."

He'd have muttered a curse had not Katrina chuckled at his side, her eyes dancing with mirth. "Ichabod's never been one for this sort of gossip. Though, he tends to spread it everywhere he moves."

Raising an eyebrow at her, he answered, "Says the woman who left her fiancé for me and stirred the whole town up over it."

"Crap, this is great," Tish said, digging in her purse and pulling out a pen and notepad. "I've got to take notes."

Rolling his eyes, he added, "Make sure to account for the fact that I wooed her away from him with my dashing good looks and charm."

Katrina's elbow met his side as she cast him an amused smile. "As if you ever said anything that could have been misconstrued as wooing."

Dani laughed. "I've seen him try to flirt. Crash and burns every time."

"So, how _did_ he win you over?" Tish asked, a smirk curling her lip. "I can't imagine it was the looks and charm."

 _These_ _women_ , he thought with a shake of his head.

In answer, Katrina turned to him with a sweet smile. "He listened."

If he'd been alone with her, he'd have done a lot more than press a kiss to her cheek before nuzzling along her neck. The most he could really do to show how much he adored and wanted her was to thread their fingers together over his thigh and whisper against her ear, "I'm yours."

"That's so sweet," Tish cried, waving a hand in front of her face. "I so need that in my life."

"Oh, please," Dani groaned, shoving at her arm. "You say that about everything."

"True," Tish chuckled.

The lights dimmed, finally signaling the start of the play. A collective silence washed over the auditorium as the curtains on stage pulled back to reveal the setting for the evening.

A long table was positioned out front with children dressed as Native Americans and Pilgrims all around; a huge feast set along its surface.

Katrina leaned close to him, her eyes searching. "Do you see her?"

It didn't take him long to find her, wedged between Tyler and Madison in her dress and bonnet.

"There," he whispered with a nod, his grin already growing as he took her in, her hair pulled up in her bonnet. "On the right side of the table."

When Katrina's eyes found her, they lit up with the sort of brilliance as to make his heart sing.

He'd never seen her so proud of anything.

* * *

"I should probably catch up on my history a bit better," Katrina said as they waited for Bella to come out from the back. "I don't remember that in any of the books you gave me."

He'd have groaned had he not been so curious. "It's not a completely accurate re-telling."

"Then, why the big play?" she asked, her eyes roaming the throngs of people.

"It's a popular inaccuracy," he grumbled, annoyed not for the first time about this particular subject.

Katrina grinned as she leaned into him, her focus back on him. "I'm sure you'll tell me all about it later, Professor."

Rolling his eyes, he wrapped an arm around her and joined in her amusement at how well she knew him. "I'm sure. It'll be your bedtime story."

"Oh?" Her brow lifted as she slid her hands along his waist suggestively. "Will this be before, after, or during our bedtime exercises?"

"You know how history gets me going." He nuzzled against her ear, his breath teasing her skin. "About as much as your mouth."

"Mommy!"

His and Katrina's heads whipped to where Bella was running toward them, her bonnet nearly about to fly off her head.

"Hi," Katrina greeted as she turned and bent to hug Bella. "You were wonderful."

"Was I?" Bella asked, completely out of breath as she shoved her hair back, pushing her bonnet out of the way. "I didn't have any lines."

He laughed and tapped her nose. "The best actresses don't have to have lines to give a phenomenal performance."

Bella grinned up at him, her eyes dancing with excitement as she looked between he and Katrina before taking her mother's hand. "I want you to meet my friends."

With a happy smile cast in his direction, Katrina allowed Bella to drag her away; the two of them more like two peas in a pod than ever.

As he watched Bella introduce Katrina to her classmates, he couldn't help the warm feeling that overcame him. To think, Katrina had been worried over embarrassing Bella. From where he was standing, she was the star of Bella's show.

"Hey."

An unexpected shiver went up his spine as he turned to Betsy, who had snuck up beside him.

Alright, so maybe she didn't sneak, but she'd certainly timed Katrina's departure well enough.

He should have better prepared himself for a conversation with her. She was Bella's teacher after all. They were bound to be forced to converse at some point. To his chagrin, however, he hadn't really given her much thought since they'd ended things.

"Hi."

A polite smile graced her lips a she nodded at Bella. "She's been really excited all day about her mom coming."

He nodded and followed her gaze to Bella and Katrina, who was currently being bombarded by a horde of six year olds. When he turned back to her, he felt his smile slip away.

"Betsy, I've been wanting to talk to-"

She held up her hand, giving a small shake of her head. "It's ok. I understand, really."

He didn't see how. It wasn't something even he understood in full. Katrina's and his relationship had never been one which was easily explained. To be honest, it seemed everyone else in the world had always disapproved of them. Perhaps, it was because Abbie had been right. They were selfish in their love for one another. Abraham. Jeremy. Betsy. They were all victims of his and Katrina's all consuming love for one another.

"Even still," he added, hoping the depth of his regret showed on his face. "I want to apologize for how I handled it. I was careless with your feelings."

"Ichabod." She shook her head with a chuckle. "She's your wife." She gestured to Bella. "And Bella is so completely in love with her. There must be something really special about her."

"You have no idea," he lamented as he turned to his girls again.

However, what he found made him come up short.

Turning back to Betsy, he smiled. "If you'll excuse me..."

"Oh, of course, I have to make the rest of the rounds anyway."

When she was turned from him, he spun on his heel and took in the situation ahead of him.

Chris, Tish's ex-husband, was talking to Katrina.

If it had been anyone else, he might not have paid it much mind, but with his knowledge of how Chris liked to moved through the mothers at school, he found his feet moving toward them at a brisker pace.

"Chris," he greeted, hand extended as he slipped his other around Katrina's waist. "I haven't seen you in a while."

Chris smiled with a nod and he couldn't help but notice the flicker of the man's eyes to his arm around Katrina. "Yeah, Madison was really excited about being Pilgrim girl number three. So, I thought it was worth dropping in on."

"Bella was, too." He nodded to the girls, who were bouncing back and forth and spinning in their dresses. "They're still thick as thieves."

"Yeah," Chris added, before clearing his throat and gesturing between he and Katrina. "So, you two... are what? Dating?"

"Married," he stated proudly, never one to back down from this sort of dance. "Happily."

"Ah," Chris muttered as he nodded to Katrina, a slight wrinkle to his brow. "No ring, though. Easy to misunderstand."

It was like a hot burning had taken hold of him as he followed Chris' gaze. In truth, it had never occurred to him that Katrina didn't have a ring. They'd not worn them in their era as it hadn't been a necessity. Now, though, it just wasn't done for a wife not to have a ring. When he considered it even further, he supposed they weren't even legally married as Katrina still didn't exist in this century.

As he noticed Katrina shift uncomfortably, he answered in a stricter tone, "I imagine it would be. If you'll excuse us, Chris, we really need to get Bella home."

"Uh, yeah, man." Chris patted his arm as he walked past him. "It was good to see you."

When he was out of ear shot, he allowed himself a sigh mixed of relief and remorse. "I'm sorry."

Katrina glanced up at him, a smirk present on her lips. "Why? I like it when you're jealous."

He rolled his eyes, attempting to maintain his straight face. "Jealous? Hardly."

In an attempt to move beyond this particular set of circumstances, he took her hand and began squeezing through the crowd.

"You forget how well I know you, Ichabod."

Cutting his eyes at her, he grinned. "Yes, love."

When he finally found Bella, she was pressed in the middle of Tyler and Madison while Dani took their picture.

"Hey, Bells, are you ready?"

"Yep." Bella hopped up from the bench, making sure to hold her bonnet in place. "Did you meet my mommy, Ms. Dani?"

As Bella took Katrina's hand, Dani answered, "I sure did. Now, I see where you got all your good looks from."

While Bella beamed, he raised an eyebrow. "I'll have you know that I find no fault in your statement." He bent and picked Bella up. "My girls are beautiful."

* * *

"Did you really think I did good?"

Pulling the covers over her, he smiled and tucked her in. "I truly did. There's never been a better Pilgrim girl."

She grinned and pointed to the door where Bob had just scurried around the corner. "Bob, did you tinkle?"

"He did," Katrina answered, following the puppy into the room.

"Good boy," Bella cooed as he reached to pick the fur ball up and help him onto the bed. "I'm so proud of you."

The puppy proceeded to bask in Bella's attention as he hopped around her.

"Alright." He reached to turn the light off. "Try to get some sleep."

"Wait!" Bella squealed, sitting up really quick. "I want to talk to mommy, first."

"Alright," he sighed, not touching the light. "What is it?"

Bella rolled her eyes. "In private, daddy. Only for girls."

"Only for-" He cut his eyes between them, making sure to put on a show of sulking. "Fine, then. Be that way."

While Katrina smiled and took his place on the bed, Bella sighed as though she were completely exasperated with him. "Daddy, I still love you."

"I don't know," he lamented, crossing his arms and tilting his head toward the ceiling. "I'm not sure I believe you."

"Oh, boy," Bella groaned, slapping a hand over her eyes. "Boys are big babies."

"Yes, they are," Katrina agreed, her mirth over this situation evident. "And your father's the biggest one."

"I see how it is," he said, pointing between them. "The two of you think you're something special, but I'll have you know that I'm quite special, too."

Katrina grinned and leaned over to whisper in Bella's ear, leaving him to raise an eyebrow at the two of them. Whatever she was saying was making Bella giggle.

"I hope you're not gossiping about me." He narrowed his eyes at them. "Whatever she's telling you is quite untrue, I'm sure of it."

Bella smiled as she crooked her finger at him, summoning him to her side. When he bent over her, she jumped up and pecked him on the cheek. "There, now you're special, too."

"Oh? Is that all it takes? Was it a magical kiss?"

"Mhm." Bella pointed at the door. "Now, I have to talk to mommy."

Shaking his head, he tapped her nose. "And then straight to bed, correct?"

"Yes, daddy," she sighed, clearly agitated he felt the need to remind her.

Satisfied he'd sort of gotten the last word, he headed for the kitchen.

For all that play had been, one would think there'd have been some food somewhere. Now, he was starving and in search of something to sate his appetite.

Fingers drumming over the counter, his eyes danced over the cabinet, seeking the perfect snack.

"Absolutely nothing," he grumbled, resentfully grabbing a poptart from the shelf.

As he tore it open and took the first bite, he allowed the cinnamon to rest on his tongue, mulling over the taste. He didn't understand why Bella liked these so much. They were glorified candy and nothing more.

"I thought you hated those."

With a groan, he turned to Katrina as she saddled up next to him at the counter. "It's all there was."

She rolled her eyes and opened the cabinet. "Ichabod, there's plenty to eat."

"Not in a quick and easy fashion."

"You're just spoiled," she stated matter of factly as she picked up his wrapper and tossed it in the trash. "And messy."

"Mhm," he mumbled, narrowing his eyes as he considered her. "And what of your private conversation?"

She bit her lip and turned from him as she began wiping the counter off. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" He set his poptart aside and slipped his hands around her waist before resting his chin on her shoulder. "Surely I was shooed from the room over more than nothing."

Katrina shrugged her shoulders, giving off an evasive aura. "She simply wanted to talk."

"About?"

She sighed and turned in his arms, her green eyes flickering about with a measure of avoidance. "She doesn't want you to know."

In truth, he'd only been curious. Now, he was on guard. "Why?"

A chuckle bubbled from her throat. "Ichabod-"

"Bella and I don't keep secrets from each other."

The way her eyes jerked to his alerted him to the fact that his words had come out more defensive and stern than he'd meant.

"I only mean that..." He tiredly sighed and wiped a hand down his face. "Is it serious?"

"No," she whispered, her eyes downcast as she twisted the hem of his shirt between her fingers, her demeanor losing all playfulness.

It pained him to think he'd stung her in some way.

"My love, forgive me." He hooked a finger under her chin, needing her to see how sorry he was. "I wasn't slighting you. I only... I just like to know everything that's going on with Bella; simple or not."

"Tyler held her hand during rehearsals and she's afraid you'll be upset with her."

"He... held her hand?" He frowned, unsure how he felt about that. "Was it part of the play?"

"No," she answered, her eyes meeting his as she gave a half shrug. "He's her boyfriend apparently."

"Her _what_?" He took a step back, sure she'd misspoken. "They're _six_ years old. There's no such thing!"

"Ichabod, please don't say anything to her," Katrina begged. "She'd be embarrassed if she knew I'd told you."

"As she should be," he spoke, his head spinning at the notion. "It's absurd!"

"My love, you're overreacting." She reached out and took his hand, her gentle grasp doing nothing to stop the burn in his chest. "It's innocent."

"You say that, now," he grumbled, not having it. "Boyfriend. _Ridiculous_."

Katrina's laughter drew his gaze up to find her having a fit of amusement at his expense.

"This is nothing to laugh about, Katrina." He pointed to the door. "Next thing, he'll be kissing her and I'll have to string him up."

Her fingers tangled in his shirt as she tugged him to lean against her. "That'll be quite the sight."

When she began pressing kisses along his neck, he grunted, "You're not going to distract me. She and I are going to have a talk."

"No, you're not," she whispered, her fingers popping one of his button's loose.

"You're not my boss." He held onto the counter as he pulled back to see what she was doing between his arms. "I set the rules around here."

"Do you?" A sly grin crept over her lips. "Well, then, Mr. Crane. What's the rule regarding sex on the counter?"

Eyes fluttering as he stuttered for a response. "I- Well... that's-"

"Does it meet your approval or not?" As the last button of his shirt popped loose, she spread the material apart and leaned against the counter, her bottom lip catching between her teeth as she lustfully looked him over. "I'm waiting."

"I, uhm..." He chuckled, his body heating. "I definitely consider that a viable rule."

"Oh?" Her fingers danced over the metal button on his pants. "I imagine it would be rather arousing."

"Absolutely," he whispered, finally taking some initiative and pressing her into the counter as he nuzzled her neck. "More than you can imagine."

"Really?" she asked, her fingers slipping up his back. "And will I be getting my history lesson in the process?"

Tightening his grip on her waist, he picked her up and set her on the counter, causing her to chuckle as she met his hungry gaze. "Oh, yes. I have quite a few lessons in mind."

As his hands began slipping up her thighs, he whispered, "Is she asleep?"

Her eyes flickered down the hall before she gave a crisp nod. "Deeply."

"Good."

With that, he pounced upon her, intent to begin their first lesson of the night.


End file.
